


A Hard Answer to Question

by sponsormusings



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 54,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sponsormusings/pseuds/sponsormusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She didn't know if it would even matter, would even make a difference.  She was going to die.  There would be no-one left of the Everdeen line."<br/>A modern day AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Excuse me? Excuse me, Miss?” 

She kept her eyes closed. She could hear the annoying flight attendant talking to her, but she had no desire for her ‘in-flight snack’ right now, nor did she feel obliged to speak to the ditzy blonde woman who had been trying to chat up the guy in the seat next to her all flight. All she wanted was to possibly sleep for at least a damn half hour and make it home before dinner.

She heard the flight attendant sigh, and ask the passenger beside her what he’d like to drink. He murmured his response, careful not to speak too loudly. She could hear the rattling of ice, the cracking of a bottle as it was opened, the careful placement of the drink on the fold-down tray. If she opened an eye, she was certain she’d see the attendant flutter her perfectly mascaraed lashes, smooth back her perfectly coiffed hair, smile her blindingly-white perfect smile. Everything about the damned woman looked perfect. That alone kind of pissed her off.

She focused instead on the gentle rumblings of the plane engine, the slight vibrations under her feet, the lingering smell of vomit and premium grade disinfectant. There was also the faint scent of vanilla and cinnamon, mixed with soap. Strange.

It was a good ten minutes before the passenger beside her cleared his throat.

“She’s gone now. You don’t have to pretend you’re asleep anymore.” She slowly opened her right eye, raising her chin at an angle so she could look into his face. 

“How do you know I’m not pretending to be asleep because of you?” she asked. He grinned and, even with only one eye open, the punch of it almost left her breathless. She opened her other eye and turned to face him fully. “Hmm?”

“Don’t be ashamed, you beat me to the punch. I was planning on pulling the same thing. I’m pretty sure she’d already given me an eyeful of her cleavage intentionally twice this flight, and I wanted to avoid it again. But I figured the odds of the two of us both being asleep weren’t in our favor, so I took a hit for the team.” His grin hadn’t wavered, and she hated the fact she was almost mesmerised by it. It wasn’t perfect – the left side crooked up a little higher than the right – but it was friendly. Charming. Sexy.

Jesus. What was she thinking?

“Well, I’m sure she appreciated that you stayed ‘awake’,” she used her fingers to emphasize air quotes, “Just like I do. Because seriously. That woman has been shitting me to tears all flight.” He laughed, and it matched the smile. He stuck out a hand towards her.

“I couldn’t agree more. I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark.” She stared down at his hand for a minute, before slowly reaching hers out to clasp his.

“Katniss Everdeen.” He didn’t let go of her hand, the pressure light but strong. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but the tingles leading up her arm were….interesting to say the least. Her fingertips were buzzing.

“That’s an interesting name. It’s a flower, right?”

“Ah, yeah,” she replied. “Something like that. Most people have no idea what it is.”

“My brothers a botanist or some shit. I spent most of my teenage years sharing a room, and a bookshelf, with him. When I couldn’t sleep, one of those textbooks would knock me right out. But not before I managed to retain some of it, apparently.” He grinned ruefully.

Did the guy ever stop smiling? She pulled her hand away – slightly reluctantly, she was surprised to find – and placed it in her lap.

“Peeta is a bit of a…. different twist on Peter, isn’t it?” He shrugged.

“It’s more of a nickname, really. My other brother – the non-botanist – couldn’t pronounce an R to save his life when we were kids. It was a bit of a joke that stuck.” 

“I can beat that. My best friend calls me Catnip. Not because he can’t pronounce my name properly. Just because he likes teasing the crap out of me,” she replied. She was more than a little surprised she volunteered that ridiculous piece of information – she rarely shared anything with anyone – but for some reason, she felt compelled to. Felt compelled to share something with the guy with the most engaging smile she’d ever seen, and eyes bluer than her sisters’. She never thought anyone would have lovelier eyes than Prim, but her fellow traveler had proved her wrong.

He was also pretty frigging hot, so that may have had something to do with it.

“It’s kinda cute,” he laughed. She pulled a face.

“Not after the first 3 million times….” She trailed off, not sure what else to say. Conversation wasn’t her strong suit. A jolt of turbulence startled her, and she gripped both armrests tightly with her hands. She didn’t hate flying, but the turbulence got her every time. 

“So are you travelling home, or away?” Peeta continued, trying to distract her from her obvious distress.

“Ah, home. My sister and I have been just outside of LA visiting the friend I was just referring to. He – Gale – moved out there a year ago for work, and we went over with his mom and sister.”

“What does your friend do?”

“He’s in the military. Based at Fort Hunter Liggett.” Peeta nodded.

“So are they all on this flight with you?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Hazel and Posy are staying for another week. Prim – my sister - is on this flight, but we couldn’t get two seats together to go home, because we booked pretty late. She’s about 4 rows back. Frigging annoying, but I’m sure she’s having a blast, chatting away to whatever person was fortunate enough to sit next to her.”

The warmth in her voice was evident as she spoke about her sister. If she’d been able to see herself the way he could, she’d notice that her eyes glowed, her smile practically leapt off her face, the pride she felt radiated off her skin. She slowly released her grip on the armrest.

“What about you?” she asked. No harm in returning the question, she thought.

“Going home too, actually. I moved back to Panem about 6 months ago to take over my uncle’s bakery. My parents grew up there but moved my brothers and me out to California when I was about 2, to open their own store. I’ve come back to run this one with Haymitch. I don’t know why he bothered to take it over from my parents when they moved. He doesn’t bake. He just sits there and drinks in the kitchen while Finnick and Annie do everything.” The surprise is evident on her face.

“You mean the Odairs? And old Haymitch Abernathy?”

“He’s not that old,” he laughed. “But yeah. He’s my uncle. Do you know them?” Katniss shook her head in disbelief.

“Small world. Annie and I went to school together. She met Finnick when she went to Florida on holiday about 5 years ago, he followed her back here, and he hasn’t left since. And I don’t so much as know Haymitch as know of him. Everyone in Panem knows Haymitch.” 

“Well, you should come in sometime, now you know the new-” he cut off as the plane took a sharp dip. Katniss felt her body slightly lifted from her seat, her seatbelt pressing tightly into the flesh of her stomach. She could hear the frightened screams around her from the other passengers, as the plane free fell for a few seconds before leveling off again. She pressed a hand to her speeding heart.

“Are you ok?” Peeta asked. “You didn’t get hurt?” She shook her head, too scared to speak. The Captain was making an announcement over the speaker system, and the flight crew was moving about the cabin, making sure everyone was ok, but she wasn’t paying attention to any of it. She half turned in her seat to find Prim, and caught her sister straining in her seat, looking forward for Katniss.

“You ok?” Katniss mouthed to her. Prim nodded.

“You?” She mouthed back.

“Yeah.” Katniss gave her a reassuring smile, and turned back to the front.

“Shit, that’s why I hate flying,” Peeta muttered. 

“I don’t mind it normally,” Katniss replied. “I just don’t deal with the turbulence very well.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, the rapid beating of their hearts slowing.

The reprieve didn’t last long.

The plane plunged into darkness, and the rumbling of the engine seemed to intensify. Katniss’ ears were battered by the sounds of screaming and yelling and she clapped her hands over them to lock the sound out. The plane plunged again, then leveled off, and plunged again. It was a vicious cycle, as it continued over and over.

Katniss blindly reached out and gripped Peeta’s hand. It was strong in enveloping hers, but she could feel the tremors as it shook with terror. Gas masks fell limply from the ceiling, looking eerily like yellow jellyfish suspended in water.

She felt Peeta change the hand he was gripping hers with, and wrapped his closest arm around her waist, bringing her forward into the brace position. She didn’t know if it would even matter, would even make a difference.

She was going to die. Prim was going to die. There would be no-one left of the Everdeen line.

As the plane plunged again, she felt herself descend into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

The world fell back to her with a sharp cry and an incessant screeching pounding in her ear. Her head ached, her arm burned, and she didn't have the energy – or the confidence to open her eyes. All she could think was _I'm alive_.

Her second thought was Prim.

"PRIM!" she yelled, but it was barely more than a whisper. Her stomach muscles clenched, and her throat constricted as she tried to call out again. It was no use. Her body wracked with noiseless sobs as her mind raced at the thought of Prim.

"Katniss?" a gravelly voice spoke up, the words filled with pain and concern. She didn't recognise it, but obviously the person knew her. Mustering all her courage, she turned her head and slowly opened her eyes. She found herself gazing into a pair of blue eyes. Not Prim's. But if not Prim's, then whose….

And then she remembered. Remembered everything.

Her heart raced, and her eyes flew open wide as she remembered the plane jerking and shaking, falling towards the earth, the sounds of screaming and sobbing, the firm grasp of a hand on hers.

An overwhelming blackness.

She felt her stomach heave, and her breath start to hitch, and she ripped off the mask that had somehow found its way onto her face. But the voice belonging to the blue eyes shushed her, soft ruminations to let her know it was ok, they were fine, and a hand rested comfortingly on her arm. She stared at him – Peeta, she remembered - concentrating hard on what he was saying.

"Katniss, are you ok?" Peeta was asking. She nodded, her voice still untrustworthy.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" She started to shake her head, then realised she wasn't sure. She finally lifted her gaze, and registered the damage around her.

The lights were out, and masks still hung limply from the ceiling. Faint wisps of smoke trailed through the cabin. Overhead luggage had tumbled from the compartments, and bags, clothes and the assorted odds and ends people kept in their bags were strewn about. There were faint undertones of gasoline, of blood, of vomit. There was sobbing, groaning, quiet whimpering, along with the creaking of metal and the occasional spark. Katniss looked down at herself, and couldn't see any serious damage, only a long shallow slice up her arm.

"I don't think so," she finally whispered, though her voice sounded tinny and far away. "Are you?" He shrugged, but she could see the pain in his eyes.

"My leg is stuck," he replied, and Katniss strained against her still buckled seatbelt to look down towards his left leg. It was stretched out at an awkward angle, towards the aisle. The drinks cart had planted itself into the back of the seat across from them, but had jammed over Peeta's leg in the process. Blood seeped out of the wound, turning his jeans a rusty brown, and smeared across the side of the cart.

"Oh god," Katniss muttered, bile rising in her throat. She didn't deal well with blood, or injuries – that was definitely Prim's realm.

Prim.

Her eyes flashed, and she struggled to undo her seatbelt, her frustration and frantic movements doing nothing to release her from its grip.

"Hey, calm down. It's ok," Peeta said softly. It was hard to hear him over the sobs and whimpering of other passengers. "Just breathe, then try it again." She took a deep breath, surprised that just with a few words he was able to calm her somewhat, and as she pulled at the buckle, it slipped easily apart; she awkwardly pulled herself forward and into a semi-standing position. At that height, she was able to see more of the cabin than before. The dim light still didn't help, but it was apparent the damage to the area around her that she had seen before was nothing compared to the rest of the cabin. Some of the seats had come loose from their brackets and had lodged themselves into the backs of others. Passengers who were able to were beginning to pull themselves out of their seats, climbing over each other in their frantic need to get off the plane, many with scratches, blood or bumps covering their heads and arms. The flight staff were moving quickly, trying to calm the most hysterical passengers or attempting to implement the correct exit procedures. A small child somewhere was screaming, louder than anything else, and Katniss pressed a hand to her temple. It wasn't helping the vicious pain that had settled in her head.

She squinted her eyes to try and see the few rows back towards where she knew Prim had been sitting, and could see the blonde head. And the matting of blood through it.

"Prim!" she yelled. "Prim! PRIM!" She kept yelling, hoping she'd get some kind of response. She started to scramble over the back of the seat, not caring that there were still people there, trying to clear their heads and calm the small child with them who was crying. She didn't care that she fell on the lap of the woman in the middle, who cried out as the weight of Katniss landed on her, and pulled herself out into the aisle, ignoring the curses of the man. _Couldn't they understand this was an emergency?!_

She pushed past the bitchy attendant - whose perfect hair was no longer perfect - climbed over a large bag that really had no right being approved as carry-on luggage, and fell onto the floor beside Prim's seat, where her head lolled forward, chin resting on her chest. A deep gash – probably from the ridiculous suitcase falling – cut across her scalp, turning Prim's blonde hair scarlet. A sob escaped her throat as she hesitantly reached out, laying her fingers lightly on the side of Prim's throat. Her sob turned into a sigh of relief.

She had a pulse.

Katniss turned, and tugged at the zipper of the offending suitcase, thankful that the first item on top was a sweater of some sort. She pulled it out, and lifting Prim's head slightly, pressed it firmly to the cut. She sat there for what felt like hours – but was probably only a minute - one hand on Prim's head, the other clutching her hand tightly, afraid to let go, when she heard Prim cough lightly, and her eyes flicker open.

"Oh, thank god, Prim," she breathed. She reached a hand up to remove the mask from Prim's head, as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. "I thought you were dead." Prim's lips raised slightly, though they were bloodless, just like the rest of her face.

"Not yet," she whispered. "What happened?" Katniss shook her head.

"I don't really know. I remember the plane falling, and everything going black, and thinking we were dead, and then I woke up."

"So we didn't crash?" Prim's voice was small.

"I think we did. But….but I guess a good crash? I don't know, Prim, I really don't. All I know is that we're alive. And I think most people are too. We must have really, really good pilots," she said softly. "Do you know what happened to your head, little duck?"

"I think a bag hit me," she tried to shrug. "I was just sitting here, and I'd just put my mask on, and then I felt a thud and I was out. I'm kind of glad though. I don't think I would have wanted to have been awake for all of that."

"Excuse me, miss?" It was the flight attendant again, but this time her voice was quiet, a little broken. Katniss turned to see her; the attendants eyes were glazed, her hands shaking nervously. "The young man you were with, he isn't doing too well."

"I'm not here with him," she said automatically, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Prim's eyes narrow.

"Oh. I'm sorry then," she abruptly turned around and walked unsteadily back towards Peeta, pushing aside pieces of luggage with her foot as she went. Katniss watched her walk away and could see the plane starting to empty, people shoving their way down the aisles, a shaft of light from further down the cabin; evidently one of the emergency exits was now being used. Turning back to Prim, she saw her start to make her way to her feet, and she rose with her.

"Are you going to be ok to walk?" Katniss asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm ok," Prim replied. "But maybe you should go see the guy who was sitting next to you."

"Why?"

"Because I'm ok, Kat, and it doesn't sound like he is. James here," she indicated to the guy sitting beside her, "He can help me outside, right?" The middle aged man, his salt and pepper hair mussed and his tie askew, smiled – albeit a crazed and shocked smile - and nodded.

"Of course I can." Katniss eyed him warily, but Prim simply dipped her chin slightly, raised an eyebrow and lifted her hand to the sweater, holding it in place. Katniss knew better than to argue with that look – the girl could still pull it off, even with a head injury - and relinquished her hold on the makeshift padding.

"Ok. I'll be outside as soon as I can. Do whatever the attendants tell you, that's their job-"

"I know, Katniss. Just go, I'll be ok. I'll see you outside." She studied her little sister again – face pale, eyes a little wide in shock – but overall she seemed ok. She nodded, and made her way back to where her seat had been. She realised her hands were still shaking slightly, but her heart had returned to its usual beat, the tension that had filled her not as tightly strung now that she knew Prim was ok. She discovered the drinks cart still in place, as was Peeta. She climbed over the seat on the other side of the aisle until she was in front of him, and crouched down so that she was closer to his line of sight.

He looked worse than Prim. His face, which was pale, was also covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his shirt was sticking to his chest. His breathing was shallow, and he kept flexing his fingers against his thigh.

His leg, she noted, was still firmly lodged under the cart from the knee down.

"Are you ok?" she asked, as his eyes locked with hers.

"Been better," he wheezed out.

"Can I do anything?"

"Stay with me? Keep me company? I'm not sure how long I'll have to stay here. I'm…I'm kind of worried about my leg."

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'm sure it'll be fine. And of course I'll stay with you." He smiled lightly, but it looked more like a grimace than anything.

"How's your sister?" he asked. Katniss looked up as people continued to make their way outside. The other passengers still mostly seemed frantic and scared, and the sounds of sobbing continued to echo from the back of the cabin. She looked back at him, then stood, shifting in between him and the seat in front, careful not to bump his leg. She sat in her seat beside him again, and then took his hand. He looked down at their linked fingers, then back at her.

"Just returning the favour," she muttered. He nodded.

"So, your sister?" She realised she couldn't hear him very well when she sat on this side of him, and shook her head to clear it. Maybe her ears hadn't popped yet, she thought, and started clicking her jaw in the hope they would. She realised he was staring at her, and she shrugged, but stopped.

"Sorry. Ah, she's ok. She's got a pretty big cut across her head, and she was unconscious for a bit, but hopefully she'll be ok. I'm a bit worried she might have a concussion, but I wouldn't know for sure."

"Well, I'm glad she's ok."

"Me too." She stared at the ceiling for a few moments, gazing at the mask that was still hanging. "How did I get my mask on? I can't remember doing it."

"I did it for you. I pushed you forward into the brace position, and then you passed out - after that remembered it. So I put yours on, and then I did mine."

"Thanks."

"No worries." They lapsed into silence, Peeta's grip tightening on her hand occasionally.

"Is there… is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"Chop my leg off?" he joked.

"Not cool," she replied haughtily. "You could be seriously injured."

"I know, Katniss," he said softly. "That's why I need to kind of joke about it. If I think about it too much…" he trailed off, and she felt bad for almost berating him. They fell silent again, Katniss desperately wanting to ask the one question she wasn't sure she should.

"Hey," Peeta said, interrupting her thoughts. "What's going on in that head? Your sister should be fine outside. But you can go out to her if you like. You don't have to stay here with me. I know you're worried about her." She shook her head.

"It's not that. She'll be ok. I keep forgetting that she's a grown adult who can look after herself. And she'd want me to stay with you. Prim – she always worries about other people, wants to make sure they're good," she paused, and took a deep breath. "I….was thinking….I wanted to ask if you passed out like me. Or you were awake during all of….that." He wrinkled his nose, and closed his eyes. Katniss kind of wished he'd keep them open. She liked looking at the blue; they calmed her, kept her from freaking out, which her brain so desperately wanted to do.

"I was awake," he said softly. Katniss grimaced.

"Will you tell me about it?" she asked. He sighed, and kept his eyes closed.

"Ah. Well, you passed out, and I put our masks on and just waited. Waited for the plane to crash, waited for everything to end. I held your hand so tight I thought I might have broken it. But the plane kept dropping, and then levelling off, and I think that was the pilot trying to regain control. People were screaming. The guy in front of us was praying like crazy. I could hear bags falling out of the overhead compartments, and one fell out from above us. I don't know why, but I instinctively stuck my leg out to push it out of the way, to move it from the aisle. Then the drinks cart came barrelling down. I've been stuck like this ever since." Katniss simply stared at him as he so calmly relayed what had happened.

"How did we not crash then?" her voice was barely a whisper. He opened his eyes then, and looked at her. His face was still pale, and sweat continued to form on his forehead, no matter how many times he wiped it away.

"I don't know. All I know is that not long after the cart hit me, the plane didn't drop off as much. It was jerky, and shaky, but we weren't falling as fast anymore. Then suddenly, we were on the ground. It shuddered like all hell, and it felt like it was going to break apart. I think we hit some trees, because it sounded like part of the plane did break off. But I don't know for sure. I could smell smoke, and the lights were off, and people kept crying and shrieking. I couldn't really move very much. And I just kept looking at you, willing you to wake up." He cast his eyes down at that, as if he was embarrassed, but Katniss was unsure why. The guy just wanted to make sure she was alive, after all. "And then you did, and you know from there."

"Were you scared?" she asked, although she knew it was a stupid question.

"Yeah. God yeah. I thought I was dead, I thought we all were. That I'd never see my parents, or my brothers, or even bloody Haymitch again. I thought I'd never get to run my own bakery. I kept thinking of all the things I was going to miss out on, that I was never going to get to do. But I also kept thinking that if I was dead, I'd never get to know the girl sitting next to me better." He coughed slightly at this, and looked away, avoiding her gaze.

Oh. _Oh._

She felt herself blush, and her mouth opened and closed, unable to form anything properly. If there was one thing she didn't expect to come out of his mouth right now, it was that. The guy was seriously injured, for crying out loud.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't have said that," he said softly, when she remained quiet. "But considering what we've just been through, I think words are the last of our worries." She nodded.

"Ah, ok. Yeah, you're right. And thank you, I'm flattered….." she trailed off, not quite sure what to say. She'd been single for so long, hadn't even been on a date since the dismal one with Cato the year before, that she wouldn't know what to do with a compliment if it was staring her in the face. She'd never been very good as part of a couple – unable to open up, unwilling to relinquish too much control – and therefore had never wasted too much time on it. But she forced herself to recall the thoughts and feelings that she had felt when they were talking earlier. She remembered the little buzz in her fingertips, the sensation-

"But you're not interested," Peeta interrupted her thoughts, a hint of disappointment in his voice, and she looked up at him, not realising she'd drifted off.

"No, no I wasn't going to say that. I just…I'm finding it hard to concentrate. So much has happened. One minute I'm sitting on a plane with a guy who's nice and sweet and has really pretty eyes, and then the next minute I'm thinking I'm dead. All before I wake up to a plane that's kind of crashed, a cabin full of people crying, a sister with an ugly laceration on her head and the guy with the eyes injured and unable to move." He smiled lightly, though it wasn't the charming smile she remembered from before. It hurt her to see him in so much pain, and she wondered if it was normal to feel that much for someone she didn't even really know.

"I guess I'm the guy with the eyes," he finally said quietly. "I like that." They sat silently for a few moments, and now that the plane was virtually empty, she could hear the shallowness of his breathing. She squeezed his hand a little tighter.

"Yeah. I guess I like that too."


	3. Chapter 3

_“Investigations are continuing, but initial findings indicate mechanical difficulties were the primary cause of the crash of flight 1210.  Effie Trinket, spokesperson for the airline, attributes the relatively successful landing of the aircraft to its two pilots, whose efforts ensured loss of life was kept to a minimum…”_

Katniss turned off the television, curling deeper under the woven green blanket that she’d draped over herself.  The crash had been all over the news for the last week, on the front page of the newspaper, even on the radio.  She already knew the pilots had navigated the plane through the difficulties they had faced, performing an emergency landing in partially open woodland an hour out of Panem.  She already knew that even their best efforts weren’t able to avoid the cluster of trees that cut short their landing and caused the left wing to tear away as they hit the ground.  She already knew how many people had lost their lives in the crash, knew how many people had been injured.  But she didn’t need to be reminded of it, and it was there in front of her _all the damn time_.  She had been getting at least three phone calls a day from nosy reporters - or that damned Effie Trinket - who had caught wind of how she stayed with Peeta until the very last minute, until the paramedics and emergency workers had told her that if she couldn’t deal with blood very well, it was time for her to leave.

She’d shot through before she could embarrass herself by vomiting, with a promise to see him later.

A week later she still hadn’t, despite Prim’s insistent pleas that she visit the hospital where he was recuperating.

Every time she thought about seeing him, though, the butterflies in her stomach alternated from nervous to excited.  _What if he didn’t remember her?  What if he was angry at her for not doing more?  What if he tried to flirt with her again?  What if the reporters saw her there?_

She rolled her eyes at herself and flipped over onto her back, playing with the ends of her braid.  Who cared if reporters saw her there?  It didn’t mean anything; just visiting a co-survivor, making sure he was ok, fulfilling the promise she had made to him.

Ugh, who was she kidding?  Of _course_ it meant something.  Since the story had been passed along – _probably by that stupid, perfect flight attendant,_ Katniss thought despondently – the media had been playing up the ridiculous idea of ‘love growing out of tragedy’ for her and Peeta, or some stupid shit like that.  It pissed her off every time she heard it.  Rather than focusing on the amazing effort of the pilots, the passengers who’d gone out of their way to help others, the passengers who had unfortunately lost their lives, the organised and well planned rescue and recovery from emergency services - the news networks had instead thought it a great idea to focus on her and Peeta.

 _Her and Peeta.  Like they were a frigging couple_.

She sighed, and tipped her head back as she heard Prim come down the stairs.  The line of stitches that crossed her scalp was clearly visible, but Katniss was thankful more than anything that was all that had ailed Prim.  There had been no concussion; just the laceration, 15 stitches and a smile from the cute EMT that had treated her.

Even in the face of death, Prim could charm the crap out of anyone.

Prim had also managed to avoid any nightmares so far, something that haunted Katniss both night and day.  She’d barely slept for longer than 2 hours at a time since they were released from hospital.   She couldn’t seem to shake the images, the feelings, the sounds, that felt like they were permanently embedded within her.  

Prim stopped at the bottom of the stairs when she saw Katniss lying there, walked over and sat on the arm of the couch, and brushed Katniss’ bangs away from her forehead.

“What are you doing?” she asked softly. Katniss shrugged.

“Watching TV.”  Prim smiled, looking at the blank screen.

“It doesn’t look like it.  How are you feeling?”

“Ok.”

“How’s your ear?”

“Fine.”

“Seriously, Katniss, do you want to be any more conversational?”

“No.”  Prim sighed.

“Come on.  You need to get out of here.  Let’s go to the hospital.”  

“The hospital? Why?” Katniss screwed up her nose distastefully.

“Why?  Well, for starters, because we were in a plane crash that could have killed us, but it didn’t.  So you need to get up off your ass and appreciate life, rather than mope like a damn sad sack.  But, more than anything, there is a cute guy there who you promised you’d visit.”

“But reporters will be there,” she complained, and even to her own ears she was horrified at how whiny she sounded.  She pulled the blanket over head, only for Prim to pull it away again and look at her pointedly.

“So?  Wear a damn scarf over your head if you want to.  Just….please Katniss.  You need to get off this couch.  Not only because, you know, you should, but also because you kind of stink a little.”  Katniss rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched up.  How on earth Prim could always remain so upbeat and happy – especially with what they had gone through this week – was going to forever and always remain a mystery to her.

“Alright.  I’ll go.  But I swear to god, if that stupid reporter Cashmere Roberts is there and she shoves a camera in my face, I’ll punch her.”

“You and me both, Kat.  You and me both.”

********

To Katniss’ relief – and the saving grace to Cashmere Roberts’ face – there were no reporters lurking outside the hospital.  She and Prim managed to move through the lobby uninterrupted, all the way up to the fifth floor, where Peeta’s room was.

“How do you even know where he is anyway?” Katniss asked as they stepped off the elevator.

“I intern here, remember?  And I have friends.  All I had to do was ask.”

“Right.”  They maintained relative silence as they made their way down the hall.  Katniss could see a security guard situated outside the door at the end, and nudged Prim, tipping her head towards the guard.  “Is that his room there?”

“Yeah.  They had to put a guard on, because friends like your Cashmere kept trying to get in.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Katniss muttered.  “This is ridiculous.”

“They just like the story, Kat, they can’t help it.  Plus it doesn’t help that he’s attractive-”

“Prim, if you say he’s attractive one more time, I’m going to think you have a crush on him.”  Prim laughed.

“Oh, come off it.  You know I’m only saying it to get a rise out of you.”

“Remind me again how you’re so damn chirpy after all that’s happened in the last week?”  Prim glanced at her, and despite her happy demeanour, Katniss could see the grief in her eyes.  Then she blinked, and it was gone.

“Because I’m alive.” 

_Dammit,_ Katniss thought.  _She’s got me there_.

They came to a stop just outside the room, as the security guard – staunch, slightly balding, remnants of the mayonnaise that would have been on his sandwich splattered across his shirt – stood and regarded them carefully.

“Hi, we’re Prim and Katniss – I called the hospital this morning to advise we’d be coming?”  Katniss narrowed her eyes at the words, but Prim ignored her, continuing to speak to the security guard as he began to open the door to admit them.

Just outside the door, Katniss stopped.  The nerves that tingled up and down her spine, the flutters of uncertainty that filled her stomach, made her second guess why she was even there.  The buzz that she knew was anticipation at seeing Peeta again warred with the nerves.

“C’mon Katniss,” Prim prompted, gripping her wrist and leading her into the room.  It was dark, the curtains drawn, the television off.  Soft snoring came from the bed, where, in the dim light, Katniss could see the blonde head of hair that had played a predominant part in most of her nightmares.

“See, he’s asleep,” she hissed to Prim.  “We should go.”

“No,” Prim replied firmly.  “We’ll wait until he wakes up.  He’ll want to see you.”  The rustling of sheets alerted both of them, and they looked over in time to see an arm reach out and flick on the bedside light.  The surprise and delight in his eyes was evident, even to Katniss, and she sighed.

“Hey, Katniss,” he said, his voice throaty and low from sleep.  He coughed slightly to clear his throat.

“Hey Peeta,” she replied, and moved closer to the bed, careful to keep her eyes on his face, and not his legs under the blanket.  She wasn’t prepared to deal just yet if he’d lost it.  She held out her hand to Prim, and pulled her forward.  “Sorry.  We didn’t mean to wake you.  This is my sister, Prim.  Prim, this is Peeta.”

“The famous Prim,” he grinned, holding out a hand.  She smiled, and shook it.

“I wouldn’t say famous,” she replied.

“Oh, I don’t know.  Your sister talked you up no end on the plane.”  He slid his eyes over to Katniss, then back to Prim, who laughed.

“Katniss has rose colored glasses on when it comes to me, unfortunately.  But I’ll take it nonetheless.”  Katniss watched their exchange, how easy-going and uncomplicated it seemed to be, when all she felt like doing at the moment was enclosing herself in the bathroom and hiding.

“How’s it going, anyway?” Peeta asked, switching his gaze to her and interrupting her thoughts.  She couldn’t help the blush that crept across her cheeks as he looked at her intently.

“Uh, good.  Well…yeah. Ok.  Um…how are you?” Inwardly, she cursed herself, and her apparent inability to form sentences.

“I’m as good as can be expected, I guess, for someone who’s completely screwed their leg up.”  At his words, she automatically glanced down, and was relieved to see the bumps under the blanket that indicated both legs were still there.

“Oh thank god, I thought you’d lose it,” she blurted before she could think.  He just smiled.

“Yeah, me too.  So it was good news for me.  Apparently because the chair across the aisle took the brunt of the force from the cart, it had just jammed my leg.  The carts weight wasn’t resting entirely on it, which is what they were worried about.  It was cut pretty badly, and there’s some joint and muscle damage, but I get to keep it.  I just can’t play professional baseball anymore.”  Prim gasped, and the horrified look on her face almost made Katniss snicker.

“Oh my god, no!” Prim exclaimed.  “Oh, Peeta, I’m so sorry!”  She turned away from the bed and glared at Katniss.  “You quite conveniently left out the part where he was a _baseball player!_ ”  Peeta laughed, and reached out to pat her hand.

“I’m kidding, Prim.  I’m a baker.  I’ve never played professional baseball in my life.”  Prim huffed out a breath, and crossed her arms, but a slight smiled played at the corner of her lips.

“Ok, you got me.  But I’m glad you’re ok, and I’m very happy to have met you.”  She looked down at her watch, as if checking the time, then looked back to Peeta.  “Ah, look, I’m going to go…out…there…somewhere for a few minutes and be back… soon…bathroom…vending machine….in a few minutes,” she said, alternating between glancing at Peeta and Katniss as she began to walk backwards out the door.  Peeta and Katniss simultaneously raised their eyebrows at each other.

“My sister, subtle as a sledgehammer,” Katniss stated wryly as the door closed behind Prim.  He smiled, and patted the side of the bed with his hand.  Katniss looked down at it, then up to his face, then back again, before hesitantly perching herself on the edge of the bed.

“It’s ok.  Gives me the opportunity to thank you in private,” he replied.  

“Ah, sure,” she replied.  “No worries.”

“I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”  An awkward silence followed, as Katniss played with the hem of her t-shirt and Peeta fiddled with the edge of his blanket.  “So yeah.  I wanted to say thank you for staying with me and keeping me sane all through that.  It must have been pretty full on for you, particularly being worried about Prim as well.”

“It’s no problem,” she replied.  “I guess, as long as you’re doing ok, that’s the important thing.” 

“Yeah.  Haymitch said if you ever go down to the bakery, you get free bread and pastries for life.”  Katniss laughed, and Peeta pulled a face. “Yeah, he’s not the most skilled businessman.  I guess he’s just happy that he’s still got someone to take over the business.”

“Geez, that’s not very sympathetic, seeing as what you’ve gone through,” she replied, her lip curling.  He waved a hand away.

“Oh, that’s just Haymitch.  I’m used to it.  The more shit he gives me, the more I know he cares.”

“Sounds a bit odd, but fair enough.”  Peeta studied her carefully as she looked everywhere but at him.  He tentatively reached for her hand, causing her gaze to flick up to his.

“How are you doing, anyway?  You’re not injured at all?  Is Prim’s cut healing?”  She nodded.

“Her head’s fine.  No concussion, 15 stitches.  She’ll have a hell of a scar, but I reckon she’ll wear it proudly.”

“What about you?”  She shrugged, and looked away.  She still didn’t really feel like talking about it, because it pissed her off.  “What’s wrong?”  She sighed.

“I got a perforated eardrum, which means I can’t hear properly at the moment,” she mumbled.  “They’re saying I should get all my hearing back in that ear, but it’s not great at the moment.”  

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.  Sucks for me.  But it’s nothing compared to your leg, so I’ll deal.”  She was thankful he didn’t press it anymore, and they lulled into a comfortable silence.  Finally Peeta took a deep breath.

“You’ve seen the news and everything, right?” he ventured.  Her eyes shifted to his before flitting away again.

“Yeah,” she replied cautiously, not sure where this was going.  “What about it?”

“I just…the stuff about us,” he said, raising his hand to his neck and rubbing the back of it nervously.

 _Shit, that’s kind of endearing_ , Katniss thought.  _And hot_.

“Um, yeah, I’ve seen it.”

“And what do you think about it?”

“I think it’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever seen,” she retorted, without thought or preamble.  His face fell, and in that second she realised she’d insulted him.  “Oh, no, I’m sorry.  Not you, you’re not crap, just all the shit they like to make up….I mean with the stories and whatever…” she trailed off, and took a deep breath, realigning her thoughts.  “What I meant to say was I think it’s silly that they’re focusing on that so much, rather than all the other aspects of the crash.”  He nodded slowly.

“So you mean, you think they should be focusing on the rescue, and the pilots, and those who didn’t make it?” he asked.  She nodded.

“Exactly.”

“So you don’t have a problem with us.”

“No- ah, _what_?”  Surely she didn’t hear him properly.

"Well....I guess I just kind of want to know if you'd have an issue with me asking you out to dinner." Right.  She was pretty sure she couldn't feel her fingers, she was clenching them together that tightly.

"Can I remind you that you're in hospital right now?"

"That doesn't mean anything. I get to go home tomorrow, then only have to come in as an out-patient for physical therapy. They've done all the surgery they can. Do you have another excuse not to go out to dinner with me other than the hospital?”

"It's not....it's not an excuse," she said defensively. "I just... I don't understand why."

"Why what?"

"You hardly know me. Why do you want to take me out on a date?" He sighed, tugging on his earlobe.

"Because you fascinated me on the plane.  Because you have these big grey eyes that I haven't quite figured out if they're actually silver or not.  Because I find myself thinking about twisting my fingers in your braid at the most ridiculous times.  Because you sat with me, a relative stranger, while I was injured.  And because I'm the guy with the eyes." He grinned at the last comment, and Katniss wondered how on earth anyone had ever said no to him.

Maybe no-one ever had.

"Fine.  Dinner it is. This is not a date, it’s just _dinner_ ,” she emphasised.  His forehead furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t question her further.  “And not in public. I don't want any media to get wind of this. The last thing I need is that airline spokesperson trying to convince me to do an interview again."  Peeta raised an eyebrow.

"Effie Trinket? She's harmless."

"She's a pain in my ass. Between her and the media..."

"She's sweet.  Just a sucker for a lo- a feel good story."

"You were going to say love story," Katniss accused, eyes narrowing.  He held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Effie's words, not mine. But now we've gotten off topic. You just agreed to dinner with me, and I accept your terms. Why don't you come over to the bakery on Saturday night, around 7, and we'll go from there?”

"Fine.  Do you want me to drive?" she asked, glancing down at his leg.  He grimaced. 

"Yeah, is that ok? Or Haymitch can chaperone us." Katniss snorted, and a slight smile crossed her face for the first time.

"I think we’ll be able to control ourselves without him around.  Ok, Mr Mellark," She rose, stuck her hands in her pockets and began walking towards the door.  "I'll see you Saturday."

"Wait," He said, struggling to pull himself into a better sitting position. She half turned at the doorway, and waited for him to speak.

“Why did you say yes?  To dinner?” He asked.  She shrugged, then reached up a hand to gently tug on her braid, partly out of habit, partly just to torment him.

“I’ll answer that at dinner,” she replied.  She watched the smile cross his face, then closed the door behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

Thunder rumbled through the night, each one louder and closer, as if the storm insisted on breaking over their house.  But it didn’t.  It just threatened, shattering the stillness of the night, accompanied by the shimmers and crackles of lighting that would always precede it.

Katniss stared out the window, curled up in the wicker chair she’d pulled as close to it as she could get, clutching her fathers’ old plaid robe around her tightly.  It didn’t smell like him – it hadn’t in a long time, its scent stripped by time – but the memories of him wearing it kept her warm like nothing else could.   

On nights like this, she loved the rain.  It calmed her, the patters of rain on the roof soothing like a balm.  Not tonight.  No, tonight it wouldn’t rain, and she couldn’t sleep.  Just another in a long line of restless nights.

Tonights hadn’t been too different from the others.  It always, _always_ started on the plane.  She would be talking to Peeta, and even in her dreams she could feel the insistent pull of attraction, could feel the thrumming of her pulse under her skin every time she looked at him.

Somehow, in her dreams, every response she’d had to him on the plane was ten times heightened than what she could remember.  Not that it bothered her, not at that stage of the dream.  It interested her, it excited her.  It made her want to know more.

Then it would all go to hell.

Most times it would be nothing but sounds and the darkness surrounding her.  But the sounds – and the smells - were enough.  They were always enough to wake her with a heart pounding out of control and a head that ached.

Later, she would always wish that the dream ended with the first part.  She could probably deal with the awkward feels that accompanied her memories of Peeta better than the overwhelming fear that would always be left behind, of everything that had happened after.

She stared up at the dark, foreboding sky, willing the storm to break.  Somehow she knew that would snap her out of her current state and allow her to go back to sleep, at least for a short while.

One day she was going to have to figure herself out, get a handle on it all.  It just wouldn’t be today.

********

"Katniss, what are you doing?"

"Huh?"

"I asked what you're doing. You've been standing in front of your wardrobe for twenty minutes." Katniss blushed, chewing on her bottom lip. She didn't think Prim was here still, and hated being caught out.  She turned, careful not to catch Prim’s eyes as she stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised.

"Um..." Prim rolled her eyes, and stalked to the closet.

"I have ten minutes before I have to leave for my shift. God help me, Katniss, you still can't dress yourself?" She rifled through the clothes on the hangers, unsurprised by the ratio of shirts to dresses.  It was exactly what she expected to find in the wardrobe – she saw Katniss every day, and knew she rarely ventured out of the oldest pair of jeans known to man.  Just once, she’d like to see her sister give two shits about what she wore.  A faint smile crossed her lips as she disregarded yet another shirt.  Obviously, this was that time.  

Katniss watched as Prim pulled a blue and white striped boat neck tee out of the wardrobe, and held it out triumphantly.  “You’re wearing this.  With those new jeans I made you buy.  It’ll look cute.  Like you’re saying ‘Hi, I’m being casual, but remember how pretty I am?’.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now.”  Prim sighed, and walked over to Katniss’ bed, where she sat, looking at her imploringly.

“Look, I know the big date-”

“Dinner.”

“Date.”

“Dinner.”

“Whatever.  I know that’s tonight.  And as much as I know you don’t want to admit it, you’re nervous.  You don’t need to be, you know.”  Katniss leant against the frame of the wardrobe door.

“I know.  And I’m not.   I wasn’t _not_ able to decide what to wear.  I just…hadn’t decided what to wear yet.”  

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes.”  Prim sighed, exasperated.

“Look, I know you Kat.  Please, just give him a chance.  You guys were really cute with each other at the hospital, and he seems really nice.  You deserve some nice in your life.”  Prim rose, dropped the shirt on the bed and crossed to Katniss, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.  “And that’s not all.  You need to start sleeping more.  I’m worried about you.”  Katniss shrugged, averting her gaze.  

“I’m trying to.  Just – let it go for now.”  Prim nodded, albeit reluctantly, and rubbed Katniss’ arm soothingly.

“Ok.  I don’t finish until 2am, so don’t wait up for me.  Unless, of course, you’re not home….”  Prim winked, her sudden change in tone causing Katniss to blink in surprise, and walked out of the room.  Katniss shook her head, and moved over to the bed, picked the shirt up and considered it.  At least Prim could pick out a half decent shirt for her.  She hadn’t even come close to figuring one out.

She’d stood there blindly, not able to recognise anything in her wardrobe.  And she knew it was nerves threatening to overtake her.  She’d lied to Prim.  She was as nervous as all hell.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she was so nervous about.

Yes, it had been a year since her last date – _dinner_ , she corrected herself.  Yes, it had been a disaster.  Yes, her track record with guys wasn’t the greatest.  But none of those were the reasons she was nervous.  She simply couldn’t put her finger on it, whatever it was that was causing her stomach to tie up in knots.  Maybe it was just worry that somehow someone would see her with Peeta, and it would get out to the media.  While Panem was by no means a small _town_ , it was still a small enough _city_ that stories from the crash were still popping up on news broadcasts or in the newspaper every few days, even after two weeks.  If there was one thing Katniss hated, it was attention, and the last couple of weeks had brought far too much to her and Prim.

It seemed like the right explanation, she thought to herself, nodding her head to confirm it.  She pulled the top over her head, smoothing it down over her hips, fixing the end of the sleeves that finished just past her elbows and reached into the dresser drawer for the jeans Prim had practically forced her to buy, but she later had to admit were a good purchase.  She turned away from the mirror before she could begin to scrutinise herself into oblivion, slipped on her favorite pair of flats and headed into Prim’s room to borrow a suitable purse.  

She looked at her watch, noted she was going to run late if she didn’t leave now, and quickly grabbed a handbag at random, dumping in the few things she needed.  Picking up the car keys lying on the kitchen bench, she headed out to the old sedan her parents had had for years, slid behind the wheel, and started the engine.  At least it turned over the first time, not like the three times it usually would for it to purr to life.

The drive to Mellark Bakery took less than 5 minutes, and she vaguely wondered how, in the last 6 months since he’d returned to Panem, that she’d never seen Peeta before.   And Prim hadn’t recognised him either, despite the fact Katniss knew she regularly snuck down there to pick up cookies to spoil her boyfriend with.  Maybe he was still letting Annie and Finnick look after the customer side of the bakery, and he simply looked after the kitchen.  Either way, she’d probably find out all about it tonight.  Curiosity had been getting the better of her for most of the week, and she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she’d given him more than a few passing thoughts.  That in itself was something she wasn’t used to.   Guys had never been a priority, not for a long time, so for him to be occupying so much of her thoughts was unusual and a little uncomfortable.  Which automatically led her to be wary of whatever the hell was - or might be - going on.

She parked the car in the lot behind the bakery, and taking a deep breath, rubbed her damp palms on the thighs of her pants.  This was ridiculous.  She wasn’t nearly this weirded out when she was on the plane with him, or even when she saw him at the hospital. 

With a huff, she pulled herself from the car, stalked over to the front entrance, and rapped impatiently on the clear glass of the front door.  She watched a mess of dark hair peer around a doorway off to the side of the serving counter.  A hand brushed ratty hair away from the eyes that had been obscured, and they narrowed at the sight of her.  Haymitch Abernathy rounded the corner, strolled his way across to the door, and propped it open, arms crossed in front of him.

“Well,” he started.  “I guess I should thank you.”  Katniss pursed her lips.  She didn’t think she’d stood this close to Abernathy since she was about 16.  She didn’t think she’d ever heard him speak directly to her in her life.

“For what?” She replied, although she already had an idea of what he was going to say.

“For helping to make sure I wasn’t stuck in this shithole on my own for the rest of my life.”  She raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think Peeta surviving had anything to do with me.  Plus, don’t you think you should be a little more sympathetic to what he’s going through at the moment? Maybe think about more than your lacking career in the baking industry?”  Haymitch snorted.  While he wasn’t a large man – average height, with the slight paunch of a man who enjoyed the fruits of the bakery, but not necessarily a treadmill – he exuded a demeanour of hostile ambivalence.  Which meant Katniss wasn’t feeling extremely welcome at the moment, which resulted in the snarky thoughts she normally kept in her head slipping off her tongue.

“Sweetheart, I got all the sympathy in the world for that kid.  But I’m not gonna go sprouting about it.  He doesn’t need me fawning all over him like every other damn person in this place.”

“Funny way you have of showing it.  And _don’t_ call me sweetheart.”  He let out a short, sharp bark of a laugh.

“I like you,” he said begrudgingly.  “You’ve got…spunk.  And _sweetheart_ , you don’t know me well enough to pass judgement just yet anyway.  I’m sure-”

“Haymitch, what the hell are you doing?  I asked you to let her in, not interrogate her at the front door.” 

Haymitch turned slightly, which afforded Katniss her first glimpse of Peeta since the hospital visit.  He stood at the entry to the hallway Haymitch had exited, supported by a pair of crutches, his leg bent and suspended a few centimetres above the floor.  The light green t-shirt he wore sat on him so well it could have been made specifically for him, showing off his broad chest and the toned muscles in his arms that she hadn’t really taken note of on the plane or in the hospital.  His wavy blonde hair curled slightly over his ears, and his smile was bright and wide.  But she could hardly look beyond those eyes again.  _Shit.  She was turning into a sap over a simple pair of eyes. Get yourself together, Katniss_.

She could see Haymitch glancing between them, and rolling his eyes.

“I’m outta here.” He turned to Katniss.  “Oh, and I wasn’t kidding about the free bread and whatever, either.  Which should please that little blonde sister of yours, buying frigging cookies all the time.”  He walked out the bakery door, slamming it closed behind him, before she got the opportunity to respond.

“I think I’d forgotten how…charming he was,” she mused, turning back to face Peeta.  He laughed.

“Yeah, Haymitch.  Wins all the friendly awards.”

“And he knows who Prim is?” Katniss asked.  He shrugged.

“I guess so.  Despite his evident lack of interest in the bakery, he tends to know the regulars.”

“I’m just surprised, really, that Prim comes here as often as she does, and has never seen you.” She continued to stand just inside the front door, worrying the strap of her purse.

“I don’t spend too much time out here just yet.  Getting my bearings in the kitchen here.  Plus, Finnick would probably die if I took over his role as resident stud of Mellarks Bakery.”

“Resident stud?” Katniss asked, trying hard not to laugh.  Peeta rolled his eyes.

“Yeah.  Don’t ask.  The ladies love him, and if they’re coming in to see him and buy something as a result, then why change that?”  This time she couldn’t stop the laugh that rolled out.

“I know Finnick can be a bit over the top with the innuendos and flirting, but I didn’t realise it happened at work too.  Took me awhile to get used to him, but as soon as I saw him with Annie, I had no issues with him whatsoever.”

“Yeah.  He’s a cool guy, I like him.  And he and Annie _are_ right together.”

“That they are,” Katniss confirmed, nodding her head.  They lapsed into silence, Katniss beginning to tap her foot nervously.  He smiled wryly.

"Anyway, this wasn’t how I expected this to start.  So, hey," he greeted, shifting his weight on his crutches.

"Hey.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for the invitation.” She paused, and looked down at his leg. “How’s it going?  The leg and all." 

"Yeah, as good as it can be at this stage. Lots of PT and getting frustrated that I can't do anything I want to, but healing. That's what's important I guess.  What about your ear?”  She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

“Yeah, hearings still not back properly.  They’re starting to get a little concerned about it now, want me to see a specialist or something.”

“Are you going to?”  Katniss shrugged.

“I guess so.”  She looked down to see her car keys still grasped in her palm.  “Anyway, I've got my car - where do you want to head to? I'm keen for anywhere outside of Panem. The other side of the country, maybe, but considering that would require a plane trip...."

Peeta smiled, resting against the door frame. "Actually, I thought about it after we spoke, and you requested not public. So I thought we could have dinner here." Her brow furrowed.

"Here?  Alone?  For dinner?"

"Yes. Yes. And yes. I thought the bakery might be a little less...forward than saying come back to my place. There's a little apartment out the back that has a kitchenette and everything. I've set us up out there." He looked at her, a bit put off by the way she was currently looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Is this ok? I can pack away everything, and we can go somewhere."  She shook her head.

“No, no, that’s fine.  I guess, I did request not public so it’s probably a good idea.”  He tipped his head, indicating for her to follow him down a short hallway.   At the end, it opened up, revealing a cozy living space, replete with mini kitchen, a solid wood dining table and a couple of comfortable couches piled with cushions of various shades of red.  The light in the room was low, the light orange glow from the carefully placed lamps casting a warmth around the room.

“I’m more of a baker than a cook, but I can do a pretty decent lasagne.  Is that ok?” he asked, leaning his crutches against the back of the couch and turning to face her.

“Yeah, fine.  Can I help at all?”

“Nope, I’m pretty much ready to go.  Haymitch helped me put everything out, so all we need to do is sit and eat.”

Surveying the food, he’d already laid out the lasagne, a summery looking salad filled with heirloom tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella and pine nuts, and a covered basket of rolls, along with a bottle of wine chilling in a silver bucket.

“Ok.  You might say you’re not much of a cook, but this completely shits over what I could prepare,” she told him.  “So thank you.  And for being understanding about me not wanting to have dinner in public.”

“That’s ok, I get it.  Traffic in the bakery the last two weeks, it’s been crazy.  It’s good for business, because, well people are buying.  But not so much because all anyone ever wants to do is talk about the…..” He glanced up at her to read her expression, and she tried to school it into a mask of indifference.  She didn’t want him to know how much it was affecting her.  “Well, you know.”  He reached over and began to serve out the lasagne.  She uncovered the rolls to find a pile of warm Mellark Bakery’s famous cheese buns, faint trails of steam still rising from them.  _Jesus, she’d loved these as a kid._   She let out a little sigh of happiness, and quickly stuffed one in her mouth.  She heard a low chuckle, and looked over at Peeta, blushing.

“Sorry,” she apologised.  “I just remember these from when I was a kid, and they were amazing.  They still are.”

“You haven’t had them for a while?”  Katniss swallowed carefully and shook her head.

“Ah, no.  I haven’t been to the bakery in some time, to be honest.  But yeah.  They’re great.”  He nodded, but she could see the question in his eyes in her response, and was thankful he didn’t push her on it any further.  He finished serving out the food, poured her a glass of wine, then just sat there, smiling at her over the rim of his own glass.  She rubbed her nose self-consciously.  “What?  Is there something on my face?”  He laughed, but it wasn’t mocking.  It was light, and friendly, and just a little amused.

“No, not at all.  I’m just happy you said yes to dinner.  It’s nice to be able to see you, and talk to you, without the threat of imminent death or the smell of disinfectant.”

“Oh.  Well, me too.  I guess.  This is my first time eating dinner in a bakery too, just so you know.”

“So I popped your eating in a bakery cherry.”

“Yeah, you-” She blinked as his words sunk in.  She knew he was playing with her, it was obvious in the curve of his mouth, in the twinkle in his eyes.  “Ah, so to speak, yeah.”  He laughed again, and she realised it was something he seemed to do regularly.  Not just out of habit, but almost in a way to make her feel…comfortable.  She took a bite of the lasagne, and closed her eyes, as the combinations of tomato, garlic, oregano and basil exploded on her tongue, along with the buttery smoothness of the pasta.  “Ok, you are a born liar.  This is amazing.”

“Thanks,” Peeta replied, a faint blush creeping across his face.  “I don’t get to cook for others very often, so it’s nice when I get to.” They ate in silence for a few moments, knives and forks tinkling musically against their plates.  Katniss vaguely wondered when the nerves had disappeared, and the anticipation had set in.

“So,” he spoke up, breaking the silence.  “Why were you so insistent on this only being called ‘dinner’ and not a ‘date’?”  She looked up at him in surprise, her fork partway to her mouth.

“Ah…because I’ve had some pretty shitty dates in my life?” she replied.  “And I think you’re nice, and I didn’t want to write you off, so I wanted to put you in the friend category.” He winced, and as soon as she heard the words come out, she wanted to take her foot back out of her mouth.  Sometimes she had the worst way with words.  “Ah, that’s not what I meant.  At least I don’t think so.  I….” She trailed off, unsure of what else to say. He smiled softly, but a little of the light had gone out of his eyes.

“It’s ok, I get it.  I can always use more friends in my life.” His tone was light, but she could hear the little bit of hurt that was an undercurrent to his words.  He picked up his glass, sipping at the straw-colored liquid, his adams apple bobbing as he looked up at the ceiling.  _Shit_.  _Now she’d offended him_.  She cleared her throat loudly, and waited for him to look back at her.

“Look, I don’t think what I meant to say and what I did say equal the same thing.  I didn’t want to call it a date, because yes, I’ve had a bad track record with dates and relationships and the whole what have you.  What I _don’t_ have is a bad track record with dinners.  I’d like to think we were bonding pretty well before things got crazy, and I think we bonded well afterwards, considering everything you were going through.  I’d like to think we can be friends.  Maybe something else.  I’m not sure.  But think of it as me….giving you the benefit of the doubt.  I saw something there that made me want to differentiate this from the dates I’ve been on.  Just – let’s enjoy dinner at this stage.”  She let out a breath as she finished.  Hopefully she’d managed to get across what she wanted to.  And by the returned spark in those damned blue eyes, maybe she had.

“Ok, deal, Miss Katniss Everdeen.  I’m happy to go on as many dinners with you as you like.  Just let me know when we’ve moved from dinner to date territory.” He smiled again, and she seriously doubted whether it would really take that long at all.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“You want my buns, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s ok – you can be honest with me.  After all this time, you’ve finally come here for my buns, haven’t you?”  Katniss watched as Finnick leant over the counter, winking at her.  She was vaguely…disturbed by it.

“Finnick, you know pulling that shit on me means nothing,” she replied with a roll of her eyes, a slight smile curving her lips.  He grinned, straightened up and fixed the twisted straps of his apron.  She couldn’t deny he was a good looking guy, with charm in abundance, but…..he was _Finnick_.

It would be like flirting with a brother.  Or Gale.  Just wrong.

_Plus Annie would probably kill her._

“But no, I don’t want your buns.  However…..I do want 6 _cheese_ buns,” she told him, and saw the look of surprise filter into his eyes for the second time since she’d arrived.  Finnick had almost done a double take when he’d seen her walk in, and she couldn’t blame him.  She hadn’t set foot in the bakery the entire time he’d worked there, since he’d followed Annie back from Florida.  It wasn’t a conscious thing.  She’d never really understood why she hadn’t, and even five nights ago as she’d walked away from the bakery after dinner, she’d questioned why.  It was a place that brought her nothing but happy memories from when she was younger.

Then again, she avoided a lot of places in Panem for exactly the same reason. 

“You want….to buy something,” Finnick said slowly, as if she’d asked him if he knew how to speak Latin.

She puffed out a breath in frustration. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to?” It came out sounding like more of a question, and she was beginning to second guess herself.  Why _did_ she want to buy the cheese buns?

_Because they gave her happy memories.  Because she’d craved them ever since she’d eaten them during her dinner with Peeta.  Because she’d secretly hoped he’d be at the bakery when she came by._

Not that she’d even really admit that last part to anyone.  

She stared blandly at Finnick, and he shook his head, moving over to the racks and beginning to place cheese buns in the sturdy brown paper bags the bakery used for their packaging. He continued to glance over at her as he did so, until she sighed.

“What is it, Finn?”  He came back to her, bag in hand, and placed it on the counter.  He raised a finger to her chin, tipping it up so he could look at her closer.

“You look tired, Kat,” he said.  “Annie and I have been worried about you.”  She shrugged, and tried to dislodge his hand, but he wouldn’t budge.  “Prim said you haven’t been doing great.  And we haven’t seen you since you got out of the hospital.”

“I’ve been fine.  I’ve been working.” 

“She also said you’d hardly left the house,” he said pointedly.

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “Did you somehow forget that I work from home, Mr Odair?”  He smiled, poked her nose with his finger and moved over to the register.

“Nope.  Just wanted to confirm snarky Katniss was still in there somewhere.” Finnick rang up the purchase, charging her far less than he should have, though she was oblivious to the fact.  He was sure Peeta wouldn’t mind.  She accepted her change and fumbled with putting it back in her purse, while her eyes strayed to the two doors that were at the end of the serving counter – one that led to the kitchen, the other to the small apartment. 

“Uh, Finnick?” She muttered, shifting from foot to foot.

“Yeah?”

“Can you…uh, can you say hi to Peeta for me?”  He grinned, following her line of sight and glancing at the kitchen door.

“I can go get him if you-”

“NO!”  It was almost comedic the way her hands flung out in front of her, dramatically waving in a negative motion.  “No, no, it’s fine, I don’t want to bother him.  Just, uh, yeah.  Say hi.”

“I will,” he smiled.

She nodded.  “Thanks for the buns.”

“Not a problem.” Finnick watched, a small grin on his face, as she quickly made her way back to the front door, almost tripping over the step on her way out.  Then thought about the guy out in the kitchen currently preparing a wedding cake.

It seemed he’d need to have a little chat to his new boss about the girl he considered the closest thing he had to a sister.

*********

The empty, crumpled paper bag sat forgotten on the floor of Katniss’ study.  Three cheese buns she’d left on a plate in the kitchen for Prim.  The other three sat uncomfortably in her belly, seemingly now at war with each other.  It had been weeks since she’d had an appetite, and now that she had one back, she had made the most of it.  She’d probably taken it a little far.

But damn, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them since dinner on Saturday.  

Gently rubbing her queasy stomach, she glanced back over the article on her screen, trying to comprehend the words she’d just written.  They looked a jumbled mess, and read the same way.  She’d already received an extension on the piece, but it still didn’t help the fact that she was experiencing a severe case of writers block.

Even for something as cut and dried as an article on various species of cacti.

She pushed away from the desk and moved over to the window, staring out at the backyard below.  It was one of the benefits of freelancing – working any hour of the day, stopping to gaze out at the gardens her parents – and then Prim – had lovingly cared for whenever she wanted, wearing her pyjamas all damn day if she chose to.

It also meant she had a tendency to procrastinate when her mind wasn’t on her current task.  And procrastinating meant thinking.  And lately, thinking meant the crash.

She knew Prim was concerned.  And obviously, so were Annie and Finnick.  But she couldn’t help it.  It wasn’t something she _wanted_ to think about, or to linger on.  It just happened, popping into her thoughts at any given time.  If she could stop it, she would.

In the meantime, she had to try and focus on the good, like Prim kept telling her to do.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen.  I’m 26 years old.  I live at 74 Twelfth Street, in Panem.  I was in a plane crash and survived.  So did my sister, Prim. So did a man named Peeta Mellark._

The last was a recent addition, one she hadn’t told Prim about yet.  It was still a little confusing as to how important that point was.

The ‘good list’ had slowly begun to help her.  The last few nights, she had slept longer before the nightmares had finally chased her, which had at least resulted in a little more sleep.  She found she was able to bring herself back quicker when her thoughts began to wander and linger in the middle of the day.  She was starting, slowly, to realise she should be thankful she was alive.

But a list still didn’t really help with the nightmares when they did come.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, tearing her away from her thoughts, and she pulled it out to see two new messages.  One was a notification from the specialist, reminding her of the appointment she had scheduled for tomorrow, and the other was from Peeta.  Despite the awkwardness that had occurred at the time, she was kind of thankful they’d exchanged numbers at the end of their dinner.  They hadn’t really texted much, an occasional ‘hi’ here and there, but she liked seeing his name pop up on her screen when they did come through.  She ignored the specialist text – _like she could forget that she couldn’t frigging hear properly_ – and opened Peeta’s.

_Hey.  Finnick said you dropped by.  You should’ve said hi.  Keen for another dinner anytime soon?_

Her fingers hovered over the screen, trying to figure out what to say.  The written word was much more her forte than the spoken, so she would probably be able to avoid putting her foot in her mouth this time.  She didn’t want to seem too eager – but also not disinterested.  Because that was _one_ thing she wasn’t.  

_Hi.  Yeah, sorry about that.  Had to come home to do some work. Dinner would be nice.  Let me know when is good for you._

She sent it, hoping it came off as casual and friendly.  She didn’t have to wait long for a response.

_Tomorrow night good for you?  Bakery closes at 5, and I’m normally out by 6.  I could come over to your place, get Finnick to drop me off?  If you’re ok to drop me home later?  Or…is it too soon for a second dinner?  Let me know if it is.  I understand._

She couldn’t help the smile that slowly formed as she began to formulate her reply.  The thoughts of the crash that had been lingering slowly dissipated, to be replaced by a nervous excitement.  Her fingers trembled a little as she typed.

_No, tomorrow is good.  I’ll see you just after 6. Don’t bring anything._

Katniss hoped to high heaven he brought cheese buns.

********

She pulled the beer out of the fridge, slammed the door shut, and kicked it with her foot for good measure.  

_Dammit._

The specialist had been a tool.  Sitting there with his stupid Mr Men tie, flicking the tip of his pen against the desk, tapping his foot repeatedly on the ground, all while he told her something she already knew.

_Miss Everdeen, your ear isn’t healing as quickly as we’d like._

_No shit, Sherlock._

Katniss cursed herself now for not having a smart remark back at the time.  Because, really, she could have diagnosed that herself.  It wasn’t that hard to figure out.

_We’ll keep an eye on it, but you may require a paper patch for your ear.  It’s not major surgery, just a simple procedure to help your ear heal.  You would be in and out in a couple of hours.  We’ll hold off for now, though, see how we go letting nature take its course.  If we do have to go that way, hopefully it will do everything we need it to.  Surgery is really a last resort if it doesn’t, but we should discuss it just in case….._

The minute he’d mentioned surgery, her heart had dropped.  Not that it was a given – only a _possibility_ , he had stressed – but even the possibility of it was enough for dread to fill her.  Because since going freelance, she’d forgotten about organising her own health insurance.  _Shit._

She knew – or had heard from Prim, who had heard it through the gossipy hospital grapevine – that Capitol Airlines was dutifully and responsibly paying all hospital bills for the people injured in the crash and that provisions were being made to the families who had lost loved ones.   But part of her worried that they wouldn’t cover _her_ for some reason, that she’d be forced to pay medical bills she couldn’t afford.

It wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened to the Everdeens.

Leaning against the length of the fridge, she took a long pull from the bottle.  She didn’t even really want it, but it was there, it was cold, and it gave her something to do.  She wished Prim was home.  She wished she could blurt out everything she was thinking, feeling, and hoped that it eased the tension that had settled on her shoulders.  Prim was good like that – listening, then telling her to pull her head in and stop worrying about things that didn’t even need to be worried about.

But she also wished she’d remembered to go shopping, because after looking in the fridge she’d realised she had no food in the house, and Peeta was coming for dinner in less than 30 minutes.

She rapped the back of her head against the fridge in frustration, and pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, pressing the fourth number on speed dial.  Pizza may not be the most glamorous meal, but, dammit, that’s what they were getting tonight.

Dinner organised, she threw herself on the couch and waited, almost like a girl on prom night.  Her prom had been date free, and attended under duress.  Annie and their other girlfriend, Madge, had poked and prodded and downright whined until she agreed to go.  She’d worn a dress she picked up for $50 at a second hand store, conceded to her hair being left un-braided and her face lightly made up, but flatly refused heels. 

She was far more excited about this dinner than she had been for prom, no doubt about it.

The doorbell startled her, and she glanced at the clock, surprised that time had passed as quickly as it had.  She nervously brushed loose strands of hair away from her forehead and stood, her bare feet silently gliding over the wooden floors her parents had painstakingly re-sanded and polished while she’d been away at university.  Through the glass panel beside the door, she could see Peeta, resting on his crutches and clutching a brown paper bag in his fist.

_Yes._

She opened the door in time to see Finnick pull away from the curb with a 5 note toot of his horn.  Peeta raised his eyebrow at the practiced sound.  Katniss smiled.

“Gale got him doing it.  Whenever they honk their horn or knock on a door, they always do the Terminator sound.  You know, the thumping sounds that would always come on in the movie when the Terminator was going to lay some shit down.”  Peeta laughed.

“Right.  I’ve heard him do it before, but I could never figure out what he was doing, and I never thought to ask.  Now you mention it – I guess it does sound like it.”

“It sounds more like it when they knock.  More menacing or intense, or something like that.”

“Of course.”

“Yeah.”  She pursed her lips, then sighed.  “Ok, and now I’m just talking about nothing.  Come on in.”  She opened the door wider to allow him entry, and accepted the bag he handed to her as he passed.

“I bought cheese buns,” he grinned over his shoulder once he’d passed her.  “I figured you’d like some more.”

“You read my mind, but I didn’t want to seem pushy,” she replied, returning his smile and moving beside him, guiding him into the lounge.  “But thanks.  I’ll go put them in the kitchen.  Dinner will be here soon.  I have to apologise, because I didn’t go shopping today and we’re eating pizza from Sae’s.”  She pulled a face and walked to the kitchen with the sound of his throaty laugh following her.  Grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge, and napkins from the drawer, she went back into the lounge to see him sitting in the centre of the couch, his crutches resting against the arm.  Her options were either to sit in the armchair beside the window, or practically on his lap.

She handed him one of the beers, and took the safe option of sitting on the edge of the rug at the end of the coffee table. 

“Thanks,” he said, tipping the beer towards her.  “And pizza is fine, by the way.”  

Katniss rested an elbow on the table, and rested her chin in her hand.  “Eh, I didn’t mean for it to happen that way.  I had every intention of doing grocery shopping after my specialist appointment, but I was in a crap mood afterwards, and just forgot.  But if you’ve had Sae’s pizza, you know it’s one of the best things you’ll eat anyway.”

“Sae’s was a staple for me the first month I was back.  Moving sucks, and the last thing I felt like doing in between that and familiarising myself with the bakery was cooking,” he smiled.

“Well, that’s good.” They fell into a comfortable silence as they both drank their beers.  It was good.  She didn’t feel awkward around him.  Nervous, yes.  Awkward, no.  Peeta finally cleared his throat.

“So what happened at the specialist earlier to piss you off?”   Katniss looked away, picking at the loose threads of the rug, stalling.  But he waited patiently, not hurrying her, waiting for her to speak.  She sighed.

“I’m not a huge fan of doctors.”

“I’m not a huge fan of the dentist, but I don’t normally leave too upset.”  

Katniss raised her eyebrow at him.  “Yeah, ok, point taken.  He was just….It didn’t really help me.  I already knew my ear wasn’t healing quickly enough, which is what he told me.  He just wants to keep an eye on it, see how it goes.  There might be surgery.”  She knew he was watching her carefully, and knew the minute he realised where her issue was.

“You’re worried about having to have surgery,” he stated.  She shook her head, then shrugged.  She didn’t want to bother him with her thoughts right now.

“No.  I dunno.  Maybe.  I just….yeah.  I wasn’t very happy afterward, that’s all.”  Peeta nodded, and let the matter drop.  She watched as he took another pull of his beer and studied the room around them, his eyes resting on the wide bay window piled with colourful cushions Prim had made during the previous winter.

“So….nice place you have here,” he finally commented.

“Mmm, thanks.  I grew up here, so it’s always been home.”  _Dammit.  She shouldn’t have said that._ She averted her gaze, almost dreading what would come next.  There was no way to avoid it now.

“You’re still living with your parents then?  Or have they retired somewhere or something?”

She paused, biting her lip.  “Uh, no.  They’re….they, uh, died a few years ago.”  She watched as the color drained from his face, his eyes widen with horror.

“Oh, god, Katniss, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to….shit, this is an awful way to start a da-dinner….”  He trailed off, averting his gaze.

“It’s ok.  You weren’t to know.”

“No, no I’m sorry.  Shit.  Shit,” he continued to mutter.  

Katniss shook her head.  “Seriously.  It’s ok.  I’m ok.  I didn’t expect you to know, and it would have come up sooner or later.” 

The sound of the doorbell brought a welcome relief from the awkwardness of the conversation, and Katniss leapt to her feet, hurrying towards the door. By the time she'd paid for the pizza, and had the obligatory 2 minute catch up with the delivery guy, she returned to find Peeta had shifted on the couch, lining himself up against the arm, and giving her the room to sit there without practically being in his lap.

"You want another beer?" she asked, dropping the pizza box on the table. "Or I've got coke?"

"Coke'd be great, thanks. I'm trying not to drink too much during my rehab," he replied with a hesitant smile. 

“Sounds good.  I should stop now anyway, if I’m driving you home later.” She moved back to the kitchen, then simply rested her forehead on the surface of the fridge. Dammit. The mood had rapidly plummeted, and she knew he felt bad for his questioning, though he had no need to be - she certainly hadn’t expected him to know. She cursed herself for inadvertently bringing it up so soon. But what's done had been done, and she had to salvage this dinner while he - they - _maybe_ still had potential. 

Katniss grabbed the drinks out of the fridge and returned to the lounge, prepared to be the most sociable she had ever been in her life.

Dammit, it was going to be hard.

********

But, with Peeta, it really wasn't.

The pizza had disappeared, along with a Sara Lee cheesecake she'd found in the freezer and profusely apologised for, and a night that had started out uncomfortably had shifted into a relaxed evening.  One where she hadn't even had to think twice about anything she'd said. It just felt.....easy. Simple.

This was how dinners should be.

"So, in the end, I had Finnick with a bag of flour lying at his feet, with most of it covering him. If you've never seen Finnick Odair with a hair full of flour, you really haven't lived." Katniss chuckled as Peeta regaled her with another tale of Finnick the Shithouse Baker. She'd heard a few from Annie over the years, hence the unofficial title, but coming from Peeta they had an extra level of good natured mocking, and less obvious adoration. She could only imagine the two guys in a kitchen together.  Disaster.

"Safe to say, then, that you're not going to let Finn back in the kitchen anytime soon," she surmised. Peeta shook his head, laughing. 

"Nope. He can continue to do what he does best- charming the ladies. I'll continue to bake the pies.  That’s what I do best."

“Not to mention cheese buns,” Katniss added.  He smirked, and she didn’t know whether it was the few beers she’d drunk earlier or a reaction to the copious amounts of food she’d eaten, but the same little fissures she’d felt on the plane skittered up her spine.  It was an imperfect smile that was perfect.

“Well-” he began, then absently glanced at the clock on the wall.  “Shit!  It’s 11.  I’ve gotta be up at 5.  Saturday mornings are always the busiest.  I’m really sorry to cut this short, Katniss, I really am.”  She shook her head, and rose to her feet.

“It’s ok.  I didn’t realise the time either.”  She watched as he shifted, grabbed his crutches and pulled himself to his feet.  She followed him out into the hall, grabbed the car keys from the side table, and led him out the front door to the driveway.  “I apologise in advance if it takes me a few goes to turn this over.  She’s a bit temperamental.”

“She?” Peeta queried with a grin.  “She got a name?”

“Pain in my ass, primarily, but otherwise, no,” Katniss replied with a slight smile.  She made sure he was settled, seatbelt on and crutches secured on the backseat, before she tried to start the ignition.  Once.  Twice.  On the third try, it sputtered to life, and she sighed thankfully.  “Ok, Mr Mellark, where do you live?”

“Flickerman Drive, number 13.”

“Just around the corner from the bakery.”

“Convenient.”

“Of course.”  They drove in relative silence as Katniss made the short drive to Peeta’s home.  It was dark, streetlights and the faint glow of the moon through the clouds providing the only additional source of light other than her headlights.

“It’s just the one on the left here,” Peeta pointed out.  She couldn’t see it very well, but from what she could make out, it was a beautifully restored two story stone structure, with a small porch at the front leading to the entry.  Katniss pulled into the drive, but left the engine running.

“Sorry,” she apologised.  “I’m not rushing you, but I don’t want to have to try and turn it over again if people are sleeping around here.”  

“All good.  But…thanks for tonight.  I had a good time.”

“Me too.”

“We’ll, uh, have to do it again.”

“For sure,” she replied, without a second thought.  Peeta smiled, before hesitantly resting his hand on hers, where it rested on the handbrake.  It was the first time they’d touched since Peeta had been in hospital.

The warmth that enveloped her from that touch alone made her curse their wariness with each other last weekend at dinner.

They sat in silence now, simply staring at each other.  She watched his eye twitch, and the muscle in the left hand side of his jaw quiver.  His lips parted, and the blue of his eyes seemed abnormally bright.  She wondered what he was thinking.  If it was anything close to what she was thinking. _If she should even be thinking what she was thinking_.  

His thumb began to trace circles on the back of her hand, and a shiver travelled up her arm, followed by a quick quiver in her belly.  The intensity in his eyes as he looked back at her gave her no doubt he was thinking the same thing she was.  All she had to do was lean over.  Lean over, and in, and she’d be able to rest her lips on his.  Be able to-

The sudden blare of a horn startled them both, and she looked down in horror at the elbow she’d inadvertently rested on the steering wheel.

“Crap!” she hissed, yanking her arm back to her side.  The silence following the piercing noise was deafening, and she could hear Peeta’s deep exhalation of breath, causing the blood to rush to her head.

It was probably a good thing.  Dates ended with kisses.  Dinners didn’t.

“Well, good night Katniss,” Peeta finally said quietly, opening his door, and manoeuvring his way out.  Once he’d retrieved his crutches, he closed the door then, leaned back to rest his arm on the open window. “Thanks.  And I’ll see you soon, ok?”  

She nodded, and smiled shyly.  “It’s a date.”

It wasn’t until she was halfway down the street that she realised what she’d said to cause the wide grin to spread across Peeta’s face as she drove away.

_Oh no._

********

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to maltease, salanderjade and jeeno2 for their advice and assistance on this chapter :)


	6. Chapter 6

Going to the movies couldn’t be considered dinner.  Neither could a baseball game, although Katniss would argue until her dying day that eating a hot dog in the stands constituted a meal.

So two weeks after she made her ‘date’ faux pas in the car, Katniss begrudgingly admitted she’d been on a date with Peeta.

“Two,” Prim raised an eyebrow, holding two fingers up to emphasise her point. 

Katniss rolled her eyes, resting her elbow on the table and cupping her chin in her hand.  “Fine.  Two.”

“You know it’s really four though, right?  Because I’m counting those two ‘dinners’,” Prim continued, taking a bite of her sandwich and grinning.

“Remind me why I’ve come down here to visit you on your lunchbreak?”

“Well, you miss seeing me, because now all your spare time is spent with Peeta.” 

At this, Katniss finally laughed lightly, swatting Prim on the forearm.  “That’s hardly true, little duck,” she replied. 

Prim dropped the sandwich back on the plate, folding her arms on the table top.  “Are you, or are you not, visiting Peeta at the bakery this afternoon?  Followed by an actual dinner at an actual restaurant tomorrow night?”

“Ye-es,” Katniss said cautiously, biting her lip.  The way Prim said it made the reality hit home.  _She was moving into scary territory._ Prim saw the look on her face and sighed.  She sucked on the straw of her vanilla milkshake to give herself a moment to find the right words.

“Kat, please listen to me when I tell you to not be so reserved, or to freak out, about all of this,” she finally said.  “Yes, it’s weird, because it’s been so long since you’ve had anyone in your life – other than me – who you’ve cared about.  But seriously.  From the moment you went back to him on the plane, you should have seen this coming.”

Katniss snorted, sliding her gaze away, and across the busy hospital cafeteria.  “Seen what coming?”

“You.  Peeta.  Look, I don’t know what happened before the…..well, you won’t talk to me about _any_ of that, but the minute that flight attendant told you Peeta wasn’t doing very well, the look on your face was…. Katniss, I haven’t seen anything remotely like it in a long time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Katniss asked defensively, still refusing to look at Prim.

“It means,” Prim started, reaching a hand out to rest on Katniss’. “That the last time I saw a look like that on your face was when Hazel told us about Mom and Dad.” 

Katniss whipped her gaze back to Prim, her eyes bright with anger.  “That was nothing like Mom and Dad,” she hissed.  “I loved – _love_ , Mom and Dad, and Peeta was a stranger to me.”

Prim sighed, rubbing gently at her temple.  “Kat, I’m not saying it’s the _same_.  Far from it, I know.  I get that.  But….you don’t let yourself get attached to easily to guys.  You’ve always had a shitty track record.  Mostly because you pick losers.” Prim tried to joke, but Katniss’ face remained impassive.  “Look, whatever happened prior to Peeta getting injured must have impacted you somehow.  Because the look on your face when the attendant spoke to you was _hurt_ , plain and simple.  And you try damned hard not to let yourself get hurt – _that’s_ why I never see that look on your face.  Why do you think I was so insistent on you going back to him?  Going to see him at the hospital?  I’m sick of seeing you alone.  You need to have some fun.  With a decent guy. ”

Katniss watched as Prim spoke to her, as the sincere emotions cross her sisters’ face.  It was true, she’d dated some idiots.  It was true that even when she had dated someone half decent, she hadn’t put enough importance on the relationship. It was true that, loser or not, she inevitably pushed them away because they didn’t fit with what she wanted.

Not that she even really knew what she wanted.

But she’d never realised she’d been that transparent to Prim.  Or that Prim was so observant that she was able to pick up on feelings that not even _Katniss_ was aware that she felt. They sat in silence, Prim chewing slowly on her sandwich, Katniss shredding the napkin that had rested on Prim’s plate to pieces.  Finally, she sighed, and looked back up at her sister.

“Ok, you’re right.  I felt a connection with Peeta.  That I still feel now.  That makes me act like someone different around him.  Someone almost…comfortable.  And I’ve _never_ felt comfortable enough around guys.  Not even the ones I’ve dated.” Prim nodded.

“I know.  I’ve generally been there when you’ve come home from being out with them,” she replied wryly.  “Just don’t be your own worst enemy here.  If you feel good about this, don’t throw it away.  Make the most of it for once.”

Katniss shrugged, not wanting to meet Prim’s eyes.  “I just….I don’t really know what to do about it all.”

“I could tell you what to do about it,” Prim replied, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

“What?”

“Well, you could kiss the shit out of him, for starters.”  Katniss mouth dropped open, and Prim laughed. “Oh, come on.  Like you _don’t_ want to.  He is a fine piece -”

Katniss quickly held her hand out, pressing it against Prim’s mouth.  “Don’t even go there.  I warned you when we visited him in here,” Katniss interrupted. 

“See?  Already jealous,” Prim teased when Katniss pulled her hand away.

“I am _not_ jealous,” she retorted, but it was really to no avail.  She picked up the bottle of water resting by her elbow, gulping it down to sooth the throat that had suddenly constricted.  She already felt like she had lost a battle she didn’t know she’d been fighting.

********

Katniss switched off the ignition, looking in the rear view mirror towards the bakery. Peeta wasn’t expecting her for at least another 15 minutes, and she figured it was a good a time as any to try and process everything Prim had said to her over lunch.

Her sister pissed her off sometimes, but she was intuitive. 

She wondered if she really could take that chance, take the opportunity to see where something with Peeta could lead to.  She had so much to worry about at the moment – work, her ongoing hearing issues, ensuring she earned enough to help Prim through her studies, her recurring nightmares of the accident – that she wondered if a little bit of good wouldn’t be a bad thing.  Maybe, just maybe, if she played her cards right, she wouldn’t sabotage whatever they might have going before it could really start. 

Katniss continued to study the bakery behind her as a calm settled over her.  She’d already changed a little because of him, by halting her self-imposed exile from the bakery.  She was starting to collate a new set of good memories from there to compliment the ones from when she was younger, and it felt good.  It felt…right.

She pulled the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car, locking it and throwing the keys into her purse.  She walked to the front door with a sense of purpose, and smiled at Annie as she stepped through it.

“Hey Kat,” Annie greeted, moving around the counter towards her, giving her shoulder a light squeeze.  “Here to see the famous baker?” It was said with a wink and a playful tone, and Katniss simply raised her eyebrow.  Annie laughed, waving Katniss over towards the kitchen door.  “Go on.  He’s just through there.  Send Finnick out, will you?  He’s been in there gossiping long enough.”  Katniss nodded, pushing through the swinging door, to see Finnick and Peeta on either side of the stainless steel bench situated in the middle of the kitchen.  Glancing around it quickly, she found it was full of state of the art appliances, shelves lined with bottles and jars of embellishments she assumed were for decorating cakes, and had two large doors at the opposite end – leading to what she assumed was a walk in fridge and a dry store.  She stopped her scan when she realised both Peeta and Finnick were grinning at her.

“Hey,” she greeted, blushing a little.  She looked pointedly at Finnick, who stood with his arms folded across his chest, waggling his eyebrows at her. “You need to go out there and help your wife,” she told him bluntly.  He laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.  Keep an eye on this guy.  He’s getting all fancy with these cupcakes _and he’s taking forever_ ,” he emphasised, shooting another look at Peeta as he moved through the door.  Katniss turned back to him, moving over towards the bench that was already coated in flour, and covered bowls that contained rising dough.

“What was that all about?” she asked, placing her bag on the benchtop.  Peeta rolled his eyes.

“He’s just being a smart ass because I like taking my time with them, making sure each one is just a little bit….different.  They’re for a 40th wedding anniversary, and I just want to make sure they’re special.  Finnick thinks they’ll be fine as they are.” He looked down to the few in front of him, then gestured towards the three dozen or so that sat completed at the end of the bench, boxed, with the lid propped open so Katniss could see inside.  She peered at them closely, her eyes widening at the intricate patterns Peeta had made in red and white icing, each one with a slight variation.  “What do you think?”

“They’re amazing.  You’ve got every reason to take your time with them.”

He smiled, nodding, returning his attention to his work.   “He knows it too.  He just likes to shit stir with me.  Especially……”  He trailed off, biting his lip.

“Especially what?” Katniss asked. 

Peeta shrugged his shoulder slightly, not taking his eyes off the cupcake he was studiously decorating.  “Well, _this_.  Us.  Whatever it is.  He enjoys giving me shit about it.”  Katniss didn’t say anything, kept silent as she digested his admission.  She wasn’t sure how she felt about the uncertainty in his voice when he said _whatever it is_.  It made her heart clench a little, thinking that she was somehow causing him to be confused.  But she didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, so she left it as it was.  She watched as he painstakingly began to create a pattern on the next cupcake, then moved away from the bench, making her way over to the kitchen door.

Katniss rose on her tiptoes and rested her fingertips on the edge of the round circular window that looked from the kitchen into the shopfront.  She could see Annie behind the counter, ringing up a purchase, and Finnick laughing with a woman just off to the side, as a child jumped hyperactively around them.  Two other women perused the glass case full of pastries, their eyes darting between the glazed citrus tarts and….well, she could only assume Finnick’s ass.  She studied him for a few minutes, gauging how he worked, how he interacted with the customers.  It was the first time she’d really seen Finnick in action – other than the time he’d pulled his ridiculous flirtation on her – and she was, well, astounded.  He was _incredible_.

Some of these women would give him the moon and the stars if they could, he was that good at his job.

As she watched him theatrically open the large bakery box containing the childs’ birthday cake to the waiting customer, she realised it wasn’t just his looks, or his ability to make every woman in the shop feel like his smile was just for her.  He actually _enjoyed_ his job.  He enjoyed the products he sold, he enjoyed explaining what was in them, how they were made.  And his enthusiasm shone through.

They could joke all they wanted about his limited capabilities in the kitchen.  But Finnick could sell out this bakery, and that’s what mattered.

“Hey, whatcha doing?” The warm voice whispered in her ear, a hand rested lightly on her hip, and she smiled, both pleased and a little flustered at the shiver his touch and the warmth of his breath caused to run through her.  Katniss turned her face to look at Peeta’s, pushed up beside hers to look out the window as well.

“Watching Finnick.  He’s really good at his job,” she replied.

“You sound surprised.” He turned away, moving back towards the bench.  She watched as he changed his grip on the piping bag, and got back to work on the final few cupcakes in front of him.

_He had such nice hands._

“No, not surprised…..I mean, I know what Finnick’s like.”  She moved away from the door and pulled herself onto the stool that sat on the other side of the stainless steel bench.  She watched his hands guide the piping bag slowly; ensuring the flow of icing was steady. “Those women out there are swarming to him like bees to honey.  But I can tell he genuinely likes his job.  I knew he did, we’ve talked about it before, but actually seeing it…. Keeping him out there is absolutely the right decision.”  She watched Peeta’s lips curve in a smirk.

“Yeah, well, sometimes Haymitch gets the business decisions right.  And I really couldn’t disagree.”

“Where is Haymitch, anyway?”

Peeta chuckled.  “I sent him off for the weekend to some baking convention.” 

“Uh….really?” Katniss couldn’t help the dubiousness that shone through in her voice.  Peeta put down the piping bag, smiling over at Katniss.

“Yeah, he normally goes whenever they’re on.  We went to one together last year – that’s actually where we first discussed me moving back here and helping him out.  I know he’ll probably spend most of the night propping up the bar with some of the connections he’s made over the years, but he’ll be good for during the day.  As much as I joke that he doesn’t do much around here, he really does.  I know he’ll come back on Monday with a new idea, or a new type of cake we should sell, or wanting a new type of convection oven.” 

“Well, he has made the bakery pretty successful over the years, I guess,” Katniss replied.  “But isn’t it going to be busy over the weekend for the three of you without him here?”

Peeta shrugged, wiping his hands on a dry dishcloth.  “They’ve always handled it before I was here.  Yeah, it’ll be busy.  But we have a couple of kids who help us out part time, so we’ll be ok.”

“We can postpone our…date tomorrow night, if you like,” she said, hesitating slightly on ‘date’.  She might have admitted it, but that didn’t mean it was something she was used to yet.  Peeta smiled and moved around the bench so he stood next to her, leaning back against it.

“I’m not letting you get out of it that easily, Miss Everdeen.”  He reached down, grasping her hand lightly with his, toying with her fingers.  “This is the first time you’re actually going to let me take you out to dinner in public.  This is a landmark event.”

“Oh really?” She tipped her head, not worried so much by the date itself, but more so by the constant curl of lust that twisted her belly whenever he was this close.

“Yep.  It’s right up there with the signing of the Declaration of Independence and the first time the Dodgers won the World Series.”

Katniss rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face.  “We may have to discuss your apparent love of the Dodgers, and how I may not necessarily agree.”

“You have to remember I lived in California for a few years,” he grinned, by way of an explanation.  “But I’m happy to discuss that too.  Over dinner.” She felt him shift a little closer, and he raised her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.  She froze in place at the touch.

“Over dinner,” she repeated softly, eyes fixed firmly on where his lips rested against her hand.  He raised his eyes, nodding slowly as he did so.

“Yes.  Over dinner,” he confirmed, his fingers tightening on hers.  She sucked in a breath, their eyes catching.  His gleamed with a combination of amusement and lust, and the longer they stared at each other, the more she could see the grin slowly fall from his face. She swallowed heavily, her heart beginning to accelerate as their eyes remained locked. _This was it, finally_ , she thought to herself.  _It felt like she’d been waiting forever._ Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she leant forward slowly, careful not to lose her balance on the stool.  She felt his warm breath on her cheek, the outside of his thigh brush against her leg, the hand not holding hers sliding up along her throat and into her hair.

His lips pressed lightly to hers, softly, almost tentatively, as if he didn’t want to scare her.  The kiss was gentle, searching, a slow introduction to each other.  Her free hand lifted involuntarily, reaching up to the front of his shirt, gripping the soft fabric in her fingers.  She shifted her head, Peeta’s fingers catching slightly in her hair, the long strands pulling taut and causing her lips to part.  It was a small invitation, almost an involuntary one; but it was one that Peeta took full advantage of.  He let go of her hand, gripped her hip and pulled her up from the stool and against him, deepening the kiss, causing her knees to weaken and her pulse to leap.  Her arm wrapped around his waist, her fingers hooking into the waistband of his jeans, and she bit down lightly on his bottom lip, causing him to groan into her mouth and pull her in closer, hard lines pressed up against soft curves.

“Hey, Peeta, I – woah, holy shit, I’m sorry!”  The yanked apart at Finnick’s sudden entrance, and they both looked up in embarrassment towards him.  Finnick stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open and his hand resting on the door.  Katniss stepped back, untangling her hand from around Peeta’s waist, and letting go of his shirt.  She felt her face flush, and unconsciously smoothed her hair, looking everywhere but at Finnick.  She could hear him mumble something at Peeta, but she couldn’t concentrate on him, could only concentrate on the floor and the buzzing in her ears.  Eventually the conversation ceased, the door swung closed and she felt Peeta’s fingers wrap softly around her wrist.  She raised her eyes, to see him biting his lip and grinning.  She raised an eyebrow at him.

“You want to laugh, don’t you?” she asked. 

“Maybe,” he replied, before beginning to chuckle.  She was surprised when he pulled her in for a hug, his arms wrapping around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest.  She found she really didn’t mind.  “It’s probably a good thing that Finnick came in when he did.  A bakery isn’t really the most romantic place to…..”

“To?” she queried, after he’d been silent for a moment.  She didn’t look at him, just kept her ear pressed to his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart.

“Well, have a first kiss, I guess,” he muttered awkwardly.  This time she did pull her head back slightly to look up at him.

“I didn’t mind,” she said softly.  “It kinda happened…the way I would have liked it to happen.” 

Peeta smiled, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Well then, I don’t mind either.  Except Finnick might mind if I tried to continue it.” He broke off as he heard Finnick bellow through the door, and he laughed.  “Because he _really_ wants those cupcakes.” 

********

Dinner had been better than she expected.  The restaurant – though popular – had been discreet, and they had managed to snag a table tucked into the corner, where the lighting was low, and traffic from other diners almost non-existent.  They’d discussed their work, their forgettable school years, even simple topics like their favourite colors.  They’d intentionally kept it light, no mention of the crash or their injuries or even her parents, though she knew if this continued, she’d have to tell him one day.  But they’d managed to shift past the awkward stage, and had somehow found themselves firmly in the anticipation zone.

For once in her life, Katniss wasn’t going to argue with it.  She kind of liked it.  How it made her feel, how it made her worry less about what she was saying and how she was saying it, how it made her _wonder_ for once.

Dammit if Prim wasn’t right.

She was still mulling it over two days later.  Dinner had ended with her dropping him home, a long, intentionally lingering conversation, and multiple kisses that weren’t interrupted by car horns or co-workers.  They’d started off sweet, simple, but had slowly drifted into heated territory, where tongues had tangled and hands had slid under shirts to rest against warm flesh.  When she physically had to pull herself away to make sure she didn’t scramble over the centre console and plant herself firmly on his lap, she knew it was time to go home.  She wasn’t ready for that.

But she’d kept herself up half the night thinking about it.

Now she was finishing emailing her latest article to her editor, and glancing at the phone every 5 seconds.  He’d told her he’d call before lunch, and it was 11.50am, and _crap, she didn’t even know what time he considered lunch time to be._

She bit her nails, a habit she’d broken long ago at Prim’s insistence.  She couldn’t concentrate, her every though geared towards the phone, willing, _begging_ ,for it to ring.  _This was ridiculous.  She was acting like a crazed schoolgirl._ But the minute it did, she plucked it up, a breathless ‘hello’ falling eagerly from her lips.

“Oh, Miss Everdeen, I’m glad I finally caught you.  It’s Effie Trinket, from Capitol Airlines, and I’d like a moment of your time.”

It wasn’t exactly the call she’d been expecting.

“Uh…hello, Ms Trinket,” she replied slowly, cursing herself for not checking caller ID.  “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, call me Effie, dear.  And please, I’d like to think of what we’re going to speak of as being beneficial to both of us.”

“Ok.  What would you like to speak about?”  She heard Effie clear her throat lightly, sheafs of paper rustling in the back ground.

“Well, we’ve heard you’re currently experiencing some….difficulties with your hearing.  We’d like to assist you with your medical bills, so that the attention and care you receive is of a high standard, to ensure your full recovery.”  Katniss knew her mouth had dropped open, but a wave of relief still washed over her.  _Thank god.  She didn’t have to worry about any of this.  Their savings, for Prim’s continued studies, could remain intact._

“That’s great to hear, Effie.  What do I need to do to get this rolling?  Are there forms I need to sign?  Do you need to speak to the specialist I’ve been seeing?”

“Oh, yes, yes, I’ll send some paperwork through to you for you to sign.  But there…Well, there _is_ something we’d like for you to do, if you wouldn’t mind.”  Katniss’ heart thudded, unsure of what the next words would be.  “I had the fortunate pleasure of seeing you out at dinner last night, with Mr Mellark.”  _Shit._ “It was wonderful, it really was, to see the two of you together.  To know those stories we heard following the… unfortunate incident were true was simply _heartwarming_.”

“Yes, he’s….he’s a good friend,” Katniss said carefully.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Effie barrelled on.  “Now, dear, what we’d _love_ for you to do is just do a couple of little interviews for us. The two of you.  As a couple.”

“I’m sorry?  What?” Katniss asked, sure she’d heard wrong.  _Her?  Doing interviews?_

“You and Peeta.  Doing a couple of the morning shows.  Maybe even _Today_ in New York.  Wouldn’t that be fabulous?  Everyone loves a feel-good story after such awful events, don’t they?  People would simply _love_ to hear from you.  On how you met.”  Katniss zoned out as Effie continued to prattle on.  She’d literally only come to terms _two days ago_ that she and Peeta might have something worth trying out, and now she had _this_ to think about?  _Morning shows?  Interviews?_   _Matt freaking Lauer?_

“I’m sorry, Effie,” Katniss interrupted, and could hear the woman’s’ ‘harrumph’ down the phone at being cut off mid-stride.  “But are you trying to tell me that if I don’t do this you won’t assist me with my medical bills?”

“Oh _no_ , dear, not at all,” Effie soothed, her tone slightly condescending.  “Those bills have no problem being covered, it really is our responsibility to our passengers of course.  But….we would be willing to pay you a bonus, so to speak, if you were happy to do this for us.  It’s really a win-win situation. “

“A bonus,” Katniss repeated slowly, though something told her that wasn’t exactly what it was.  “And what about Peeta?”

“His medical bills are being covered, and he will also receive a bonus.  If you both agree of course.  I’m sure it’s something you’d like to discuss.  Together.”  She tittered softly on the final word, and Katniss closed her eyes.  Right now, she hated the fact that all she could think about how easy it would make her and Prim’s lives with a little extra income – but how she felt like she would be selling her soul to Capitol Airlines to do it.  Be paraded on national television, to discuss something she didn’t even like _thinking_ about? 

“I’ll have to speak to Peeta, and my sister,” Katniss finally spoke, after silence dragged on uncomfortably.

“Oh of course.  Yes, yes, please discuss.  But if you could get back to me by Wednesday, dear, it would be appreciated.  You can contact me on this number I called you on.  Have a good day, Miss Everdeen.” The call disconnected, and the dial tone rang in her ear.  She pulled the phone away, staring at it. 

It _definitely_ wasn’t the call she’d be expecting.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to those lovely authors who pre-read parts of this chapter, and to jeeno2 for answering my questions to ensure I didn't look like a fool :)


	7. Chapter 7

The phone could have been ringing for 5 hours or 5 minutes, she didn’t know.  All she knew was that she’d been staring at it blankly, the tinny ring barely able to make it through the fog that had settled in her brain.

_Interview.  Bonus.  You and Peeta.  A couple._

_What the hell was she going to do?_

Katniss finally reached for the phone, pressing the answer button and holding it to her ear.

“Hello?” she mumbled.

“Katniss?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Peeta.”  At hearing his name, everything shifted back into sharp focus, and she blinked, realising he was still speaking to her.  “Katniss?  Are you there? Are you….are you ok?”

“Sorry, Peeta, sorry.  I’m, uh, just feeling a bit…..” she trailed off, unsure what to say.  Silence fell heavily across the line, until she finally heard Peeta clear his throat.

“I guess Effie Trinket called you,” he said, the hesitation clear in his voice.  She got up, pacing over to the window and staring out towards the street.

“Yeah.  She did.  She called me.  I guess she called you too.”

“She called a little while ago, yeah.  That’s why I was late in calling you.  Had to wrap my head around what exactly she was asking of me.  Of us.” 

Katniss nodded in agreement, until she remembered he couldn’t see her.  “Me too.  Wrap my head around it, I mean.  I still don’t think I have.  It’s…kind of crazy.”  He murmured an agreement, and she heard the muffled noise of a hand covering the receiver, and whispers in the background.  She wondered what he was doing, and distractedly studied the lilac bushes that lined the driveway.  She seriously needed to do some gardening or something like that, since Prim didn’t have time-

“Katniss, you there?” she suddenly heard Peeta’s voice back on the line, and she hummed in acknowledgment.  “Haymitch is going to cover for me-” she could hear the grumbles in the background that indicated he hadn’t so much _agreed_ , as he was being told to “- and I’m going to come around.  I think we need to talk about this.”

She sighed.  “You’re right.  Come over.  I’m not doing anything.  So yeah.  Come over.  Now.  If you want.” She knew she was rambling, almost couldn’t stop it.

“Ok.  I’ll be there soon.” 

“Uh-huh.” She hung up, not even thinking to say goodbye, and planted herself on the window seat.  She pulled a cushion the colour of ripe strawberries into her chest, clutching it tightly.    Why that woman had had to call today, of all days, when she was feeling so good about everything.  The last two nights she’d slept better than she had since before the accident.  She’d gone a good job of the article she’d sent to her editor.  And she felt good when she thought about Peeta, about the crooked smile that crept across his face when she said something stupid, about the way he made his way around the bakery, looking so cool and calm and confident.  The bakery was his arena, and he ruled it.

But now, this ridiculous proposition had come to light, and the worse thing was _she couldn’t immediately dismiss it._ She wasn’t being forced – not yet anyway, she mused – and would be paid to simply answer a few questions.  An interview wasn’t a matter of life and death.

What mattered was the fact that to do these interviews – _if_ she did them - she had to _think and speak_ about life and death and survival and things that still kept her up at night.  There was no way to get around it.  She would have to speak about the very thing she’d been trying so steadfastly not to discuss with anyone.

She couldn’t completely understand why she was affected by it so much.  Prim had rebounded from the whole thing so well, you’d barely think it had happened.  And other than the singular crutch Peeta was still using, no one would think he had been _this close_ to losing his leg.  She herself had been relatively unscathed, yet here she was, the one who had trouble sleeping, had trouble keeping her mind off of all that shit.

Her thoughts scattered as she saw the car pull into the driveway – he must have left the minute they got off the phone – and watched as Peeta moved from the driver’s seat, limping as he forwent the use of his crutch.  He moved up the three stone steps that led to her doorway, and she listened for the knock.

She couldn’t help the little smile that crept across her face that he’d adopted Finnick and Gale’s terminator code.

Katniss dropped the cushion back on the seat, and moved towards the front door, opening it slowly.  And coming face to face with Peeta, did the first thing that came to mind.

She stepped forward and slid her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest, shifting until she could hear the heartbeat that had steadied her in the bakery the previous Friday.  She could practically feel the surprise radiating from him, before his own arms slipped around her, one clutching around her shoulders, the other bracketing her waist, his fingers splayed against the small of her back.  They didn’t speak the only sound breaking their silence being the Thompson kids playing in the front yard next door.

“Are you ok?” Peeta finally asked, raising his hand and brushing softly at the hair falling over her ear.  She nodded, and then shifted her head back so she could look up at him.

“Yeah.  I think so.  Sorry.  I just…needed the hug or something I guess.”  He smiled, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“I’m always free for hugs for you,” he whispered, then stepped back, glancing over his shoulder.  “But maybe we should go inside.  There are some kids at your side fence staring at us.”  Katniss turned, and sure enough, saw the Thompson twins, Venia and Octavia, – she often wondered what the _hell_ their parents were thinking when they named them – peering at them over the fence that backed onto the lilac bushes.  She blushed, and nodded, turning and walking back into the house, waiting until Peeta had followed her in before closing the door.

“Those kids are frigging nosy,” she told him, moving in to the lounge.  The longer she put off bringing up Effie Trinket, the better.

“Why aren’t they at school?  It’s Monday, right?”  Peeta awkwardly moved around the coffee table, settling himself and propping his leg across the length of the couch.  “Sorry.  It’s hurting like hell today.” Katniss shrugged, and perched herself on the arm opposite him.

“It’s fine.  Be comfortable.  But uh, yeah, it’s Monday - and they’re home-schooled.  So they, um, like to watch me when I’m attempting to garden and stuff.   Once, they even tried to convince me to let them do a makeover.  It didn’t end well when one of them came at me with a pair of tweezers.  They’re only nine, for god’s sake.”  She watched as he tried to contain the laugh that was threatening to bubble over. “Laugh.  Go on.  Prim did when I told her.”

He chuckled, almost under his breath, before his face turned serious.  “So.  I guess I didn’t really come here to talk about your neighbours, did I?”

“No.” She sighed, and shook her head, glancing down at her hands.  She clasped them tightly in her lap, her knuckles white and bloodless. 

“What do you think?”

“What do _you_ think?”

“I asked you first, Katniss.”

She sighed.  “Ok.  I was….surprised.  And a little taken aback.  And kind of upset.”

“You don’t like the idea of being on TV?” Peeta asked, understanding evident in his voice.

“It’s not that.  Not entirely.  I don’t think.  I just…..” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to put in to words how she was feeling.  “I thought it would have all blown over by now.  I hadn’t gotten a call from a reporter in ages.  We didn’t have any issues when we went to the movies or to the game the other week.  And I only just got my head around the idea of maybe something good was happening between us.  Now I have to go on TV and talk about it.  When I feel weird even talking to Prim about it.”

“You don’t like talking about us?” His tone was low, and she watched his lips turn down a little.

“It’s not so much that, either.  Maybe.  I’m just not good at saying things, and I’m going to be expected to sit there and answer questions about me, and us, and…..”  She cleared her throat, her eyes focusing on the small mole on the side of her wrist.  “Plus I don’t really want to talk about the crash.”  Katniss finished the rest of her sentence in a whisper.  Peeta moved his leg and shifted forward, so he was close enough to lay a hand gently over hers.

“And it’s ok to feel that way.  You don’t have to answer those questions if you don’t want to.  If we decide to do this, we’re in it together.  I’ll be there to back you up, to help you if and when you need it.”

“And when they ask about how I feel about you?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “What about it?  The main reason they’re asking us to do this is to play up the fact that we met on that plane.  Is it really that big a deal?”

“Yes,” she huffed, although she knew it was ridiculous.  She stood, causing his hand to drop against the couch, and crossed her arms across her chest.  “I mean, like I said, I’m still getting used to this.  How can I explain something I don’t understand?”  The frustration and confusion she knew had been lingering since she first ended the call with Effie Trinket rolled in full force, and she threw her hands up in front of her.  “I’ve never had to worry about this before.  I’ve never….cared about anyone enough before.  It just pisses me off that the first time in my life that something like this might be happening; it becomes a public free for all.”

Peeta ran a hand through his hair, mussing the waves haphazardly.  “Katniss, no one is forcing you to do this.  If you really hate the idea so much, all you have to say is no.”

 “I know.  I don’t know.  I don’t know anything.  This is all shit.”  She shook her head, stomping from the room and into the kitchen.  She knew she was acting ridiculously, not making any sense, rambling in circles.  She was surprised Peeta had even been able to keep up with she was saying, because she sure as hell didn’t understand it.  She fisted her hands against the kitchen table, staring down at grained patterns in the wood.  Katniss heard a throat clear behind her, and turned to see Peeta standing at the entry to the kitchen.

“Do you even have an opinion at all?” she asked, and cursed the surliness in her voice.

He shrugged.  “Of course I do.  But ultimately, I’m neither here nor there.  The money they’re offering would be such a huge help to the bakery.  God knows we’ve still got some loans to pay off.  But money isn’t everything.  And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, or awkward, or as if you _have_ to do it.  You and Prim have been doing fine as you are, there’s no reason to change anything.”

“We still have a lot of debts too, you know,” Katniss replied, and flung her arm out as if to gesture around the house.  “Trying to cover mortgage repayments that really should be covered by two people working full time, then helping Prim out with paying for all her studies – it’s a tough thing, living week to week. 

Peeta shrugged, moving slowly into the room.  "I know.  And I completely understand.  Ultimately, though, I think you need to make the final call on this one, Katniss.  I have no problems at all talking about how I feel about you.  And it's something that, financially, will help you and Prim in so many ways.  But I know it's more than just that and emotionally, we both have to be prepared for it.  I'm not making this decision for you."

She watched him lean against her kitchen counter and wondered how they'd even arrived at this point.  And why on earth he would leave a decision that affected both of their lives almost completely up to her.

She sighed.  “All we seem to do is survive, Peeta.  Nothing more.  I’m lucky that I’m getting paid pretty decently for my work, and that Mom and Dad had savings.  But….as much as I know this kind of money would help us so much, a part of me hates that I feel like I’d be….selling out.  I don’t want to sell out, Peeta.”  He moved over to her, careful not to put too much weight on his leg, and took both her hands in one of his.

“You’re not selling out if you do this, Katniss.  And believe me when I say you don’t have to, either.  We don’t have to play their games.  You need to be 100% confident in the decisions you make.  And just know that I’m behind you with whatever you do decide.  Prim will be as well.  So will Finnick and Annie.  Even Haymitch, if I tell him to.”  Peeta smiled at her, and it drew a small smile to her lips. His free arm slipped tentatively around her waist.  “It’s ok, Katniss.  Whatever we decide to do, it’s going to be ok.”  He squeezed her hands tightly and pulled her in closer, so close she could smell flour and vanilla, and the faint undertone of cologne, on the collar of his shirt.  The fact he had pretty much up and left work to come to her spoke volumes.  She knew, no matter what decision she made, she was going to try her best to do right by him.

“Ok,” she finally sighed, looking up at him.  “Let’s do it.  But we need to make some provisos to Effie.  We do 2 interviews, max.  That’s it.  Any more than that, and I won’t do it.  I _can’t_ do it.  And I think you need to do most of the talking.  You’re good at it.”

“Good at what, exactly?” He smiled softly.

“Talking.  Being charming and whatever.  I’m only doing this because it’s going to help Prim and I.  And because it will help the bakery.  I don’t care about Effie and their stupid airline and stupid people wanting to know stupid things about me.”

“It looks like we’re doing this then.”

“Yep.”

“Do you want me to contact Effie and let her know?”  She nodded, and grimaced at the thought of Effie.  Peeta laughed. 

“Ok.  I’ll do it when I get back to the bakery.  Speaking of which, though, I’d better head back.”  Katniss was surprised at the way her heart dropped at his words, and the layer of disappointment that settled over her.

“You can’t stay any longer?” she asked, pulling one of her hands from his and resting it on his forearm. 

“I’d like to – trust me, I’d really like to – but I told Haymitch I wouldn’t be too long.  As it is, I have to stay late now, and finish off what I haven’t gotten done yet.” Her fingers flexed, tightening against the firm muscle of his arm.

“I’m sorry, Peeta.  You shouldn’t have left work.  I didn’t realise you’d have to work later because of it.” 

He shook his head, and reached up, his hand curving to cup her jaw.  “Don’t apologise.  This is where I wanted to be.  We needed to talk about Effie’s offer.  And as long as you’re 100% sure on your decision, then it looks like we’re doing this.”  Katniss opened her mouth, and he saw the hesitation in her eyes.  He pressed his lips together and nodded, almost to himself.  “Tell you what.  I actually want you to think about it a little more.  Speak to Prim, and get back to me tomorrow.  I’ll hold off on calling Effie until after then.  Once you’ve made a decision, let me know.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding, not even completely aware she’d been holding it until he’d given her more time.  _Thank god._   “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Katniss, I’m sure,” Peeta said firmly.  “I’ll be happy with whatever you decide.  But I don’t want you to regret your decision tomorrow, after Effie already has the ball rolling and has us doing the cross to commercial for _Good Morning Panem_ , ok? “

She smiled faintly and nodded.  “Ok.  I’ll let you know.”

“Good.” Peeta took half a step backwards, but was effectively blocked by Katniss maintaining her grip on his arm, and her fingers lacing tightly through his.  “You have to let me go, Katniss,” he said wryly.  She looked down at the floor, then back up at him through her lashes. _This was ridiculous.  All she wanted to do was kiss the guy goodbye, and she was acting like an idiot._

She leant up, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.  “Thanks.  For coming and everything.  And for being so understanding.”  He smiled.

“It’s nothing, it really isn’t.  Just let me know when you’ve made a decision.” He paused, his blue eyes studying hers, before beginning shine, as if he had an inside joke that he wasn’t letting her in on.  “Meanwhile, how about we have a kiss that’s a little better than that?  We’ve gotten past the awkward stage, remember?” He grinned, leaning down to press his lips to hers.  They were soft, but the pressure of them against her own was enough to send a shiver down her spine.  _Hell if the guy knew how to kiss._   He angled his head, and the shift, along with the soft slide of his tongue along her bottom lip made her forget the main reason he was even there.  Her hand tightened on his arm, their entwined fingers clenching together between their bodies.  She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but knew that if she did, she quite possibly wouldn’t be able to let him go.  And that’s what she was worried about.  That whatever they had starting to happen here may be ruined by media scrutiny.

As that thought snuck in, she gently pulled away.  “You’d better go,” she told him.  “Haymitch will be waiting for you.”

He nodded, slowly extracting himself from her grip and limped back to the door.  “I’ll speak to you later, ok?” he said, a small smile on his face, before opening the door. 

“Later for sure,” she replied.  She waited until he’d made his way to the car, started the ignition and driven down the street before she closed the door, slumping to the ground, and leaning against it.  She got the feeling no matter whatever decision she made, her life, once again, was going to change.

********

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Prim slammed her palm on the surface of her dresser, whirling to face Katniss.  “Some dumb-ass airline person calls you, offers you a shit-ton of money, and you’re actually thinking of doing it?”  Katniss furrowed her brow, not particularly happy with the way Prim was reacting.  Sure, she herself didn’t particularly like the idea.  But at least she had been thinking about it, carefully weighing the pros and cons.  She’d thought about nothing but, ever since Peeta had gone back to work earlier that afternoon.  She didn’t understand why Prim couldn’t see in the slightest that it was a good opportunity for them, financially.

She’d followed Prim up to her room the minute she’d gotten home from her shift, not bothering to give her sister a moment to herself.  She needed to tell her straight away, get it off her chest and out into the open.  And once she’d explained it all, she’d been surprised at the volatile response she’d gotten.  They’d been going in circles for close to an hour, and it had only gotten worse once Katniss had admitted she was seriously considering the offer.

She leant against the doorframe, crossing her arms across her chest.  “Well, I don’t know if it’s a ‘shit-ton’ of money, as you put it, but I’m thinking of us, Prim.  Of the fact that we won’t feel like we’re living day to day.  You know what a bitch this place is to maintain in winter.”

Prim turned again, yanking the watch from her wrist and throwing it on the bureau, glaring at Katniss through the mirror.  “Then I’ll drop my studies back to part time!  Shit, Kat, are things really that bad that you feel as if you have to go on television and talk about it all?”  Katniss mouth dropped open at the bitterness in Prim’s voice.  She stalked over to the younger girl, standing beside her, hands on hips.

“Prim, what the hell?  It’s not like they’re asking _you_ to do this.  They’re asking me.  Me and Peeta.  And the reason I’m considering it is for _you_.  I’m not going to let your dreams go by the way-side.  You busted your ass to get into that nursing programme early, and I’ll be damned if you’ll delay it any longer.  Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Yeah, well, Mom and Dad probably wouldn’t be too down with you blathering on about a relationship with some guy on TV either.” Prim glared at Katniss again, and now that she was closer, it was in that look that Katniss knew that there was more to this reaction than Prim was letting on.

“What is it, really?  And don’t bullshit me.  Why are you acting like such a spoiled brat?”  Prim opened her mouth once, twice, three times, before tears filled her eyes.  _Shit.  Now she’d made her cry_.  She tugged on the younger girls’ arm until they were seated on Prim’s bed.  It was piled high with pillows, fluffy and plump in varying sizes and shades of blue.  She’d made these too.  Katniss wondered how the hell all the talents in their family had gone to Prim, and completely skipped over her.  “I’m sorry, Prim.  I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Prim shook her head, wiping her hand under her nose.  “It’s not your fault, Kat.  I just had a really shitty day.  We lost one of our patients today, and I’d gotten close to them.  I know we have to try and not bring it home with us, but sometimes you just do.  And I guess, coming home to that…I wasn’t really expecting it.” Katniss sighed, and pulled Prim close to her side, resting her head on top of Prim’s.

“I’m sorry, Little Duck.  That’s awful, and I’m so sorry.  I shouldn’t have thrown that at you the minute you walked through the door.”

Prim shrugged, and sniffled.  “You weren’t to know.  Obviously you haven’t had the greatest day today either.”

“Nothing compared to yours.”

They sat in silence, both of their thoughts wandering.  Katniss wondered if Prim’s reaction really _was_ the right one, whether she should be that opposed to it, be that horrified by it.  Prim wondered if Katniss realised the full impact that doing these interviews may have on her slowly blossoming relationship with Peeta.

“What does Peeta think?” Prim finally asked, her voice catching from the tears she still hadn’t shed.

“Peeta….is happy for me to make the decision.”

“Really?”

“Really.  He told me, er, he told me that he had no problems speaking about how he feels about me in public, so it was really my decision.”

Prim sighed and shifted so that she was leaning against the headboard.  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?  Look, I completely get why you might want to do it.  But I know you.  Is this _really_ something you want to do?”

Katniss shrugged.  “I don’t know entirely if I _want_ to do it.  I told Peeta if we did, we’d only do two interviews.  I guess….I kind of feel like I owe it to him.  He’s helped me a lot, even if he doesn’t realise it.  And that money will help him and the bakery.  Not to mention it will help us too.”

“Money isn’t everything.”

“No, it’s not.  Peeta said the exact same thing.  But it’s gonna help us do more than just survive.  I think we need to do it, Prim.  And I need your support.”

Prim reached out and gripped Katniss’ hand, squeezing it once.  “Ok.  You know I’ll back you up, and I’ll be there for you and Peeta.  Just….just be careful.  I don’t want you to get overwhelmed by it all.”

“I’ll try.  And thanks.  It means a lot.”  She smiled at Prim, and waited for the small smile in return.  “I guess I’ll go let Peeta know.”

Prim nodded, and Katniss moved from the room, pulling her phone out of her pocket, quickly typing the text out to Peeta.

_Call Effie tomorrow, and let her know we’re on.  K._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, it's much appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

_How had they gotten here so quickly?_

It was really too damned early on a Friday morning to be doing this.  The studio, despite being air-conditioned to within an inch of its life, felt stuffy and warm to her, and Katniss was glad she’d elected to wear the dark green sleeveless top Prim had tried – and failed - to discourage her from wearing.  The last thing she needed when she was already nervous and her stomach filled with butterflies, was to look and feel sweaty and disgusting.

The studio was bustling, men standing behind huge cameras, mounted on tripods with wheels that afforded them the ability to move around to whatever angle they needed.  A woman dressed all in black, her fingers pressed tightly against a silver earpiece hurried past her, talking a mile a minute to whoever was on the other end.  Another stood just off to the side of the set, a large clipboard in hand, barking out orders.  It was chaotic, frantic – and Katniss hated it.  She wanted nothing more than to be at home right now.

_Remember why you’re doing this, remember why you’re doing this._

“He looks weird, huh?” Peeta asked, moving up beside her and tipping his head towards Caesar Flickerman as he stepped onto the set.  Katniss studied the long-time host of _Good Morning Panem_ , the trim pale grey suit he wore – offset by a shiny midnight blue tie - and the way his black hair was slicked back stylishly from his forehead.  He’d hosted this show even when she was a child, continuing the family tradition, just as his father and grandfather had before him.  _Good Morning Panem_ wasn’t _Good Morning Panem_ without a Flickerman at the helm.

She pursed her lips.  “Not so much weird – but he just hasn’t seemed to have aged.  He looks exactly the same as he did when I was a kid.” 

Peeta glanced over at him and chuckled.  “Yeah, you’re right.  Plenty of work, hey?”  He smiled, and reached down, squeezing her fingers with his before releasing her hand again.  They’d quietly agreed to keep displays of affection to a minimum in public, and for Katniss, it wasn’t really an issue.  She still felt awkward hugging him in her own home, let alone in a studio full of strangers.  So she’d been more than happy when they’d mutually decided the less they gave them, the better.  “You feeling ok?” He asked softly.

She blew out a breath, and turned to face him.  “Yeah.  Nervous.  Like, really, really nervous.  I don’t know what to say.  I’m going to make a fool of myself.”

“You’ll be fine,” he assured her.  “I’ll be with you every step of the way.  I’m charming, remember?”  He winked, and she rolled her eyes, despite the fact that, inwardly, she was smiling.  He’d been nothing but supporting ever since she’d agreed to go ahead with Effie’s proposition and, just as he’d told her, so was everyone else.  Even Gale, despite his initial misgivings and an awkward conversation where she had to tell him _why_ she’d been asked to do the interviews, had begrudgingly admitted that if she felt like it was the right thing to do, then she should do it.

Then he’d done nothing but tease her for ten minutes about meeting a dude on a plane, and she’d hung up on him.

Katniss heard the sharp, staccato tapping of heels on linoleum, and sighed, rolling her shoulders as she saw Effie Trinket approach them.  

“Peeta, Katniss!  Welcome, welcome, it’s so lovely to see you!”  Effie Trinket was immaculately dressed, from the tips of her classic black Louboutins, to the deep plum dress that hugged her slim curves, to the bright blonde curls piled on top of her head.  “We have such a big morning ahead, I hope you’re prepared!”

_Did the woman ever not speak without an exclamation mark?_

“Good to see you again, Ms Trinket,” Peeta said smoothly, extending a hand.  She giggled coquettishly as she grasped his hand lightly in return. 

“Oh, Peeta, none of that, really.  You _must_ call me Effie, as we’ll certainly be spending a little time together over the next week or so.” She turned her gaze to Katniss, and the brightness of her eyes dimmed a little.  “And Katniss, how are you, dear?  Not nervous, I hope!”

“Ah, yeah, actually, I am,” Katniss replied bluntly.  She had every damn right to feel nervous.  Effie brushed it aside with a hand and distracted ‘humph’.

“Oh, no need, dear, no need.  Caesar is a wonderful interviewer; you’ll have no issues with him at all.  He’s been doing this for a very long time.  Very professional.”

“Yes, we were just speaking of that,” Peeta interjected, sensing Katniss’ growing frustration with the bubbly blonde.  “I remember him hosting the show even when I was a young boy.”

“Yes of _course!_ ” Effie exclaimed.  Her eyes widened, and she tapped a perfectly manicured nail against her top lip.  “You live on Flickerman Drive, don’t you?  Oh, what a small world!  That street was named after his grandfather, you know.”   She said with her eyebrow raised and a quirk of her lips, as if this news was a secret.

“I’ve heard that somewhere before,” Peeta replied, glancing at Katniss and smothering a grin.  Even she knew that – hell, her father had told her stories how the Flickerman patriarch had been driven down his newly christened street on the back of the float normally reserved for the Fourth of July parade, waving like a beauty queen.  The Flickerman family had never done things by halves.

Thankfully, a young sound technician interrupted, brushing Effie off, and began attaching the lapel mics to their collars, making sure they sat right and the sound was at the appropriate level.  He guided them up to the set - where Caesar shot them both a quick, absent smile - and settled them on the futuristic white loveseat they had ready for the two of them.  Katniss settled herself on the side closest to Caesar, smoothing out non-existent creases in her black pants.

The sound guy adjusted her lapel mic one more time, then stepped off the set, shooting a thumbs up to the woman with the silver earpiece.  She in turn tipped her head towards Caesar in what was obviously a well-rehearsed routine, counted down for him, and, with a smile plastered across his face, he looked earnestly towards the camera with the blinking red light.

“Welcome back, Panem.  We were all riveted recently by the story of the crash of Flight 1210,” he began, his voice low and modulated.  “What could have been a tragedy that ended in extensive loss of life was thankfully limited in its toll by the miraculous work of the pilots of the aircraft, who we met a few weeks ago.”  He paused, as if for dramatic effect, gazing intently down the barrel of the camera lens. “Sometimes, however, there can be additional silver linings, and that’s what’s happened in the case of the two guests with me today, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.”  He turned his gaze from the camera to them, smiling warmly.  “Welcome to the both of you.  Now, for those at home who might still be unaware of your story, rumours abounded after the accident that a romance had blossomed between the two of you.  Eyewitnesses spoke of how you refused to leave each other’s side afterwards, and how it wasn’t until the EMTs arrived that you agreed to be separated.  However, these rumours were very quickly shut down – now, it seems they were actually correct.  Were you just playing coy with everyone?”  He winked, a playful tone to his voice, that neither Katniss or Peeta could help but smile at.

“Not at all Caesar,” Peeta started.  “But we both felt it was more important that people focused on those who were injured, and those who unfortunately lost their lives.” 

Caesar nodded gravely.  “Yes, of course, so true.  Our hearts still go out to those families, and to those continuing to recover.  And, quite simply, our deepest thanks go to the pilots and crew for doing such a wonderful job.  But let’s talk about the two of you for the moment.  Tell me, Katniss, Peeta.  Tell me the story from your perspective.”

Katniss and Peeta exchanged a look, her own eyes pleading with him, and he nodded almost imperceptibly.   “Well, what would you like to know?” Peeta said smoothly, a charming smile on his face.

“Tell us about ‘this’,” Caesar replied, gesturing towards them in an exaggerated motion.

Peeta shrugged.  “I’m afraid there really isn’t very much to tell, Caesar.  Katniss was a very entertaining seat mate on the plane, and of course, was a very big help to me while I was stuck afterwards, with my injury.  I think situations like that tend to bond people, and I think we’ve bonded very well.  We’ve become very good friends.”  Katniss studied him as he spoke, as Peeta and Caesar discussed his leg injury, as they laughed and joked with each other.  She thought a joke may have been made at her expense, but she couldn’t pay attention.  Peeta was lit up like….a light.  His eyes shone, his smile dazzled.  She couldn’t help but think what a run for his money Peeta would give Caesar in the television host stakes.

“Tell me, Katniss,” Caesar said loudly, breaking through her thoughts.   “Peeta says you’ve become good friends, although I do sense he’s simply being a gentleman.” He grinned.  “What do _you_ think of young Peeta here?”

“He’s…..” she trailed off again, torn between being honest or stubbornly not forthcoming.  Then she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.  “He’s a very real,genuine person, Caesar.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Caesar replied, shifting forward in his seat so that one elbow rested on his knee, as if entranced by her revelation.  “So do you think this could be the start of something special between the two of you?”  Katniss and Peeta glanced at each other, and Katniss didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  Damn, she hated these kinds of questions.

“It’s a little too soon to tell, Caesar,” Peeta interjected smoothly.  “We’re enjoying each other’s company at the moment, and are happy with the friendship we’ve developed.”  He paused, and Katniss saw him glance at her quickly out the corner of her eye.  He took a deep breath.  “I must say that I…haven’t felt what I feel for Katniss for anyone else before.  She’s very special.  And although the circumstances in which we met weren’t ideal, I couldn’t imagine having anyone else there with me to go through it with.”

Katniss would have laughed at Caesar’s over exaggerated sigh of happiness if she hadn’t been staring at Peeta, mouth wide open.   _I haven’t felt what I feel for Katniss for anyone else before_.  What the hell did that mean?

She vaguely heard Caesar announcing about crossing to their sponsors, and being back after the break, but she was still too busy staring at Peeta, who was looking at the ground sheepishly.  The woman with the earpiece stalked up on to the set, muttering to Caesar, who nodded enthusiastically at her words.

“I’m sorry Katniss,” Peeta whispered.  “It just came out.  I just had to say it.”  She shook her head wordlessly.  _Was it such a bad thing?  Should she be mad at him for saying something like that?  What did it even mean?”_

“Um, it’s ok.  I think.  I guess.  Can we talk about this later, when we’re not miked up?” 

Peeta blushed, and looked down at the small microphone attached to his collar.  “Absolutely.  That’s a good idea.”

A loud voice cut across the room, effectively cutting off any further questioning.  “And we’re back in 5, 4, 3…..”  There were two beats of silence before Caesar was off again.

“I’m here with Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, two of the passengers from flight 1210.  Katniss, Peeta, we’ve spoken about the possibility of a budding romance between the two of you, but let’s speak seriously for a moment.”  He turned his gaze directly on to Katniss, making no mistake as to who he wanted to answer the question.   “So, how are you after the accident, Katniss?  And can you tell me what were you thinking and feeling when it happened?  Talk me through it.”

“I, uh…um….errr…” Katniss trailed off, and felt the beads of sweat pearling on her forehead. The studio lights were blinding, glaring at her from a multitude of directions. Coloured filters softened some, but most were brighter than the midday sun, burning into her eyes.

She took a deep breath, tried to shut out the images and sounds that swarmed. _A little blood, whisps of smoke.  Yellow masks dropping from the ceiling. Screeching, the rubbing of metal on metal.  A long, baleful moan._

Then she felt Peeta’s warm hand envelop hers, his fingers pressing tightly, reassuringly, against hers. The heat radiated through her fingertips, down her arm, into her chest and her racing pulse calmed. He was here, just like he said he would be.

“I…Well, my first thought was my sister,” she finally answered softly.  “We weren’t sitting together, so I wanted to make sure she was ok.”

“And was she?” Caesar prodded, though he already knew she was.  Katniss nodded.  “Tell me a little about your sister.”  He settled himself back in the chair, a gentle but easy smile on his face.

“Ah, well, her name’s Prim.  She’s studying to be a nurse, and I love her more than anything else in the world,” Katniss said shyly.

“And after you made sure your sister was ok?”

“I…I went back to Peeta.  The attendant told me he wasn’t doing very well, and I thought….I thought I would keep him company.”

“Were you worried for Peeta’s safety, for his wellbeing?” Caesar asked softly.  Katniss looked down at their joined hands between them on the seat, found it didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would, and nodded.

“I was worried about his leg.  I mean, the drinks cart had smashed into it pretty bad – I always figured those kind of things were locked down during turbulence or something, but I guess not.  And no one else was really helping him, he was just there on his own when I got back to our seats.  So I sat with him.  Thankfully, he was ok.”

“Yes, yes, he was.”  He paused, glancing down at a small palm card in his hand, before looking back up at her again.  She could see a glimmer of apology in his eyes as he looked at her seriously.  “Now, Katniss, this isn’t the first time your family has been affected by an accident, is it?  Your parents lost their lives in a car crash a number of years ago.  Do you think that had an effect on how you’ve been dealing with the accident?”

If his earlier question had caused images to overwhelm her, this question made her mind go blank.  Every thought she’d had flew out of her head, as 5 years’ worth of grief overwhelmed her in an unexpected instant. _What the hell right did he have to bring this up on television, in front of all of Panem?? How could he be so insensitive?_

She stared at him, a combination of shock and surprise and grief evident upon her face.  She felt Peeta’s fingers tighten even more on hers, felt him shift closer to her on the awkward loveseat.  Peeta was speaking, his words echoed and faded, as if he was a mile away from her.

“I don’t think Katniss is prepared to answer that, Caesar,” he said firmly, his jaw set angrily.  “Losing loved ones can be very difficult to speak of, as I am sure you can understand.  I think it best we move onto another question.” If Katniss had looked at him, looked into Peeta’s eyes at that very moment, she would have seen an ice-cold fury directed at Caesar that she would have hoped to high heaven would never _ever_ be directed at her.

“This is true,” Caesar said softly, almost stunned into silence himself.  “Sincerely, my apologies.  I think we may leave the interview there, but I would like to thank you both for your time, and wish you all the best.  Folks, we’ll be right back after this break, with the weekend forecast.”

Sound came back to her as the studio buzzed back to life.  Caesar apologised profusely, over and over again, until Katniss couldn’t handle any more.  She simply stood, walked off the set, towards the studio doors, through the corridors and out to the main reception.  She ignored the shrill calls of Effie at her back, something about manners, and focused on the steady thump of her heart, the knowledge she’d be outside in the sun in a moment.  She could hear Peeta angrily telling Effie to _piss off and get out of his way_ , but she kept moving.  She pushed through the turnstile, ignoring the receptionist insisting she sign out, and walked out the wide glass doors, slumping against the edge of the garden bed at the front.  The scent of the overblown of roses was cloying, almost overpowering, but she couldn’t be bothered moving.

She felt his warmth before she actually felt _him_ , so she wasn’t surprised when his arm slipped around her shoulders.  She wished she could turn, wished she could tuck her face into the space between his shoulder and his jaw, and cry, breathe him in, seek comfort.  Instead her eyes remained dry, her posture impassive.

“Do you want to go home?” Peeta asked softly after a few moments, his fingers brushing gently against her shoulder.  She nodded, moving over to his car, waiting impatiently for him to open the door, to take her away from here.

Katniss crawled into the passenger seat of the car, allowed Peeta to reach across her, buckling her seatbelt.  He moved around the hood of the car, barely taking his eyes off her through the windscreen, and slid into the drivers’ seat, switching on the ignition.  She closed her eyes, tucking her body into a ball up against the door, the gentle purr of the car lulling her to sleep.

She woke to feel her head tucked into the exact place she’d wanted it to be earlier, one of his arms tucked underneath her bent knees, the other supporting her back, resting just above her ribs.  She heard the familiar creak of her front door opening, Prim’s whispered questions, and Peeta’s soft assurances in return.  She didn’t open her eyes.  She couldn’t face Prim right now, not at all, and was thankful when she felt Peeta continue to make his way down the hall, up the stairs and into her bedroom.  It was selfish, she knew it was, but she didn’t try and help him as he awkwardly tried to lay her across the bed, carefully placing her head on the pillow.  It wasn’t until he began to move his arms out from under her that she opened her eyes, staring back at him directly.  He blinked in surprise.

“Sorry,” he whispered.  “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” she replied dully.  She continued to stare at him until he sat down beside her on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped between them tightly.  They didn’t say anything, the air heavy with their unspoken thoughts.

“I didn’t know he was going to ask anything like that,” Peeta finally broke the silence.  “Whenever I spoke to Effie, I was very clear we were only speaking about the crash, and that we would be cautious about what we did say, whether it was about us or not.  Nowhere did she say that they would mention your-” He cut himself off, still not daring to look at her.

“You can say it,” she muttered.

“I don’t need to,” he replied, finally turning to look at her.  She could see his own eyes were sad, full of grief he really didn’t understand.  “I’m sorry, Katniss.”

She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.  She was quiet for a moment before she began to speak.  “I didn’t want for you to find out the way you did.  I figured we’d just discuss it one day, when the time was right.” She sighed, drawing in a breath.  “I was away at college.  Prim was still in school.  And despite the fact that my parents were sad that Prim would be going away to college the following year, they were getting excited.  They were going to travel, go and see the world they didn’t get to when they were young.  They grew up here, never really got out of Panem.  They had these great dreams that they wanted to make a reality.” She paused, gnawing on her bottom lip.  “I didn’t come home to visit enough that year, and for that, I’ll never forgive myself.  Prim kept telling me how happy they were, as if some weight had been lifted off their shoulders.  Looking back now….I wonder if somehow….they were that happy, that carefree, because they knew they wouldn’t get that time together later.”  She felt his hand reach out for hers, entwining their fingers.  “I got the call at 1am.  They were coming home from the movies.  They both d- They were both gone instantly.”  Her voice caught on the words.  She hadn’t said them in so long, she could almost pretend it wasn’t true. “But that’s the story.  I came home, organised everything, finished college remotely and here we are.”  She turned her head to face him, noticed him watching her intently.  “I’m fine.  I really am.  I grieved a long time ago.  But I don’t expect to be slapped with it in the face, on live television.  They were my parents, Peeta, and I love them.  The public don’t need to hear about that.”

Katniss looked down at their hands, the way his thumb gently rubbed against hers. “And they don’t need to hear about us either.  If I want to see where this can go…..We do that second one, and we’re done.  No matter how much money they might throw at us, we’re done.” Her voice cracked, the tears that had been lodged in her throat for what felt like hours threatening to spill over. 

“I agree,” Peeta said gently.  He ran a hand absently through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck.  The gesture reminded her so much of when they were on the plane, the first time he did it and she thought how _sexy_ it looked, that she involuntarily let out a little sob.

He looked down at her, concerned, resting his free hand against her cheek.  “You ok?”  She nodded, still not entirely trusting her voice.  She turned back onto her side, facing away from him, but tugged on his hand, until he had no choice but to follow.  She felt him stretch out behind her, one arm tucking itself under the pillow, the other resting gently across her waist.  She shifted back until her body rested against his, his warmth seeping into bones that had turned cold.

“Will you stay with me?” she whispered finally, closing her eyes.  She was asleep before she heard his response.

********

The pillow was soft beneath her cheek, cool and almost like velvet against her skin.  She felt the warmth of her grandmothers’ old patchwork quilt resting atop of her, and the heavy - but comforting - arm draped across her waist.

Katniss slowly opened her eyes, the late afternoon sun streaming through the open window and setting the room aglow with a faint orange haze.  She realised, with a start, that she’d slept for hours.  Uninterrupted.

She shifted, rolled over, and a combination of surprise and acceptance filled her eyes when her gaze locked with Peeta’s.

“You stayed,” she whispered, her voice heavy with sleep.

He smiled, reaching up his hand to brush an errant piece of hair behind her ear. “I promised you I would.”

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Katniss lay on her bed, enjoying the peace and quiet, the warmth of the late afternoon sun.  Appreciative of the way, for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t waking tired, with a body aching from lack of sleep and eyes ready to immediately close again.  Peeta’s hand still rested in her hair, his fingers brushing gently along the long strands.  It felt good, soothing, but knew if he continued she likely would fall asleep again – and right now, she didn’t want that.

She reached up, linking her fingers with Peeta’s, and drew their joined hands in between their bodies.  She used her other hand to shove and punch at the pillow under her head until it sat comfortably.  He watched her with an amused grin on his face.

“What?” she mumbled, knowing that her television make-up was probably smeared to all hell across her face.  “Are you laughing at the stupid make-up they made me wear and my panda eyes?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong with your make-up,” he chuckled.  “I’m laughing because you look like my nephew when he’s trying to get comfortable when he goes to bed.  Basically beating the crap out of his pillow.”

Katniss rolled her eyes. “Well, your face is all smushed by yours,” she countered.

In reply he simply moved his arm and propped himself up on his elbow, resting his jaw in his palm.  “There.  Problem solved.”  He grinned down at her, and she was struck, once again how….well…. _beautiful_ was really the best word for him, although it felt weird calling a guy that.  She pulled the quilt up a little higher, up to her cheek, hoping to hide the blush she knew was starting to rise.

“Tell me about your nephew,” she blurted, before she said something stupid.  His brow furrowed in confusion, before he shrugged.

“Well, remember me telling you about my brother who couldn’t say my name right?” Peeta asked.  She nodded.  “Well, it’s his boy.  Nate is four, and is pretty rambunctious.   He likes dinosaurs, cake that grandpa makes and can’t sleep without his Captain America action figure.”

Katniss smiled.  “Sounds pretty cute.”

“He is,” Peeta agreed.  “I probably miss him the most out of all my family.  I mean, yeah, I miss the rest of them.  But he’s got an abundance of personality, which I think skipped his dad, just between you and me.  And I’m good with kids.  They’re fun.  He’s fun.”  He sighed, and shifted onto his back, moving their clasped hands so they rested on his stomach.  His other hand moved on top of them, gently tracing his fingers against the back of her hand.  She wasn’t even sure he realised he was doing it.  “It’s weird though.  I don’t miss them as much as I thought I would.  I’ve spent the last 20 years in California with them, but it never felt like home.  And I’ve been here for less than a year, and it feels like I this is where I should have been all along.”

“Tell me about them,” she urged softly.  He’d heard about her parents, had met Prim, and she was curious to know more about his own family.

He glanced over at her quickly before looking back up at the ceiling.  “Ah, ok.  My dad is just like me.  Or I’m just like him.  Sometimes our mannerisms and the way we talk are so identical, it staggers me.  I mean, I already know what I’ll be like when I hit 50.” He paused for a moment before continuing.  “My mom….well, my mom is another story.  She’s the complete opposite of my dad.  We….talk, but we don’t really get along.  I don’t think we ever will.  In that respect, I guess it’s a good thing I moved here.  As for my brothers, we’re just…typical siblings.  Ethen, Nate’s dad, is really quiet, and is the most like mom in terms of personality. He’ll probably take over the bakery out in CA from mom and dad when the time comes.  Aaran is the biggest smart-ass I’ve ever met in my life, but he’s a good laugh.  I honestly don’t even know how he got into botany, but we like to joke it’s just a result of all the pot he used to smoke. ” He trailed off, chuckling softly, before falling quiet.

“Have you spoken to them much since the crash?” Katniss asked, breaking the silence.  She inched her hand up between the pillow and her cheek, so she was resting on it.

Peeta nodded.  “Yeah.  My dad regularly.  He came out here for a few days immediately after it happened.  I’ve spoken to my brothers maybe two or three times.”

“Not your mom?”

“No.  It’s probably for the best anyway,” he muttered.  Then his voice brightened considerably.  “But having dad here was good.  He was there through the surgery, and left the same day you and Prim came to visit.”

Katniss flushed, remembering how obstinate she’d been with Prim that day, whinging about going to the hospital to see him, and then getting flustered when he’d asked her to dinner.  She glanced down at his leg, and although the scars were hidden by his jeans, she knew they were there.

“Does it still hurt alot?” she asked.  She brought her gaze back up to his, watched as he half-shrugged.

“Sometimes.  It hurts today. But that’s-” he cut off as Katniss yelped.

“I’m so selfish!  I’m so sorry, Peeta.  I made you carry me up the stairs earlier.  Shit, sorry, sorry,” she babbled.  He laughed softly.

“It’s ok, Katniss.  It was hurting before that.  It’s like…..I don’t know.  Like, the more emotional I get, the more it hurts.  Caesar pissed me off something fierce asking you about your parents, and it was all I could do not to jump up and beat the shit out of him.  But I didn’t.  I was holding in a lot of tension, though, and maybe that affects my leg.  I can’t really explain it.  But either way – me carrying you up these stairs didn’t make it hurt any more than it already did.”

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“You really would have punched Caesar?”  Her voice was small, quiet.  He nodded.

“100%.  But it wouldn’t have looked too good for me if I had.  And I figured I’d already said and done enough in the interview as it was without making things worse.”  He reached his hand up, rubbed at his eyes, scrubbed his hand across his face, before he glanced back at her. “I’d already put my foot in it after announcing how much I felt about you on television for everyone to see and hear.”

Katniss closed her eyes, felt a layer of awkwardness settle over her like a blanket.  _Oh god, he had.  She’d managed to forget that after everything else that had happened._

“I shouldn’t have said it,” he muttered.  “I mean, I know I told you I wasn’t worried about speaking to people about how I feel about you.  But I don’t think I intended to say that much.  I’m sorry.  I couldn’t stop it.”  She opened her eyes again and tightened her fingers around his, gently tugging on his arm.

“Don’t apologise,” she said softly.  “Don’t feel guilty about it.  You have a right to say what you want.”

“But not when it involves you,” he protested.  “I should’ve held back.  I know how private you are, and how you don’t like to make a big fuss over things.”

She studied his face, and despite the impassioned plea in his voice, she could see something else in his eyes.  Something she didn’t want to be responsible for extinguishing.

“I’m glad you said it,” Katniss whispered, and watched the surprise cross his face.  “I know you wouldn’t say anything you don’t mean.  And you shouldn’t feel as if you should censor yourself.”

Peeta shifted back to his side, propping himself up again.  He let go of her hand, reaching up to cup her cheek.  “Then what if…..what if I told you I was falling for you?  Not just attracted to you, but s _eriously_ falling for you?”

She couldn’t help the way the weight settled in her stomach, the way her heart somersaulted in her chest, the way she struggled to swallow the lump in her throat.

She couldn’t help the internal voice that, despite everything else, sighed _yes_.

“I….I…..wouldn’t be upset,” she ventured.

“But would you be happy?” he asked intently.  “I don’t want to rush you, or rush things between us.  But I feel like you have a right to know that this is…..this is more than I was looking for, or expected, or even _wanted._  But I’m not sorry for it.  I definitely didn’t lie when I told Caesar that what I feel for you is more than I’ve felt for anyone else.  This isn’t ‘casually dating’ for me, Katniss.  This is me….looking for a serious relationship with you.”

She opened and closed her mouth, once, twice, three times.  She already knew she was attracted to him – physically and emotionally – more than to anyone else she’d ever met.  She already knew he was a positive influence on her life, already knew that she somehow felt stronger when he was around.  Already knew she hated it when he was gone.  But she simply thought they were _dating_.  Was she ready for anything more defined just yet?  Could she promise something to him she wasn’t even sure she could fulfil right now? 

Katniss watched his body slump against the mattress the longer she took to reply, the longer she stared at him, unsure of what to say.  She wasn’t sure she’d know anytime soon the best way to answer.  Instead, she shifted forward so that her body was lined up against his, slipped her foot over his own, reached her fingers out so the tips of them traced the hem on the sleeve of his shirt.  Moved them so that they drifted across the cotton that covered his shoulder, across his collarbone, up to his jaw.  She watched him watch her, wariness filling his eyes, unsure of what she was doing.  _Hell, she didn’t know what she was doing_.

“Katniss, will you say something?” his voice was a little pleading, laced with confusion.  She shook her head as best she could against the pillow.

“I already told you I’m not good at saying something,” she whispered, and leant forward, pressing her lips to his.  His were soft, gentle, almost hesitant, as if he was still unsure of what she was doing, what she was meaning.  But then she reached her hand up into his hair, gripped the blonde waves at the nape of his neck, moulding her lips to his.  And his free hand involuntarily clamped down on her shoulder, fingers twisting the fabric of her shirt.  He pulled her closer, _impossibly_ close, so that there was nothing but their own bodies drawn up against each other.  She could feel the heat emanating from him, could feel the way his fingers tightened around hers, their hands locked in a vice-like grip between them.  She let her mind empty, thought about nothing but _him_ and the feeling of his lips on hers, his hands on her, the length of his body along hers. 

Eventually, Peeta pulled away, his breathing laboured and his hair mussed by her hands.  His eyes roamed over her face, as if to try and find an answer.  If he found it, she mused, she hoped he’d fill her in.

“Katniss?” he questioned softly, and she knew she owed him some kind of response.  She sighed and pulled herself up into a sitting position, looking down at him.  She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. 

“I just need time, ok, Peeta?” she said quietly.  “That’s all I’m asking for at the moment.  I don’t want things to change between us, because I like _being_ with you. I wouldn’t have agreed to do the interviews if I didn’t feel anything for you.  But for anything more defined…. Just give me time.  Please.”

He pulled himself up beside her and nodded, though she could sense a level of disappointment in him.  “Ok.  But at least you know how I feel now.  It was kind of hard keeping that to myself.”

She smiled softly, and brushed a lock of his hair from his forehead.  “Thank you, Peeta.  For being understanding about this.”

He said nothing, simply smiled at her.  And with that, it took her just that little bit closer to where she thought she needed to be.

********

In the days following their interview, Katniss found solace in solitude, in Prim, in Peeta – even in Finnick and Annie.  Prim had a row of day shifts, so in the evenings they would sit on the couch, curled up watching old movies their parents had loved.  During the day she worked alone, finishing article upon article to send off to her editor.  If she spent time staring out the window, lost in her thoughts, it wasn’t something she shared with anyone, wasn’t something she wanted to linger on.

She began to take her lunch break in the bakery, hopping in her car for the short drive from home so she could listen to sounds of the bakery as they worked, as Finnick charmed the ladies, and Annie pretended to be oblivious.  Munched on whatever she was given to eat, as Peeta made batch upon batch of pastries that made her mouth water, as he gleefully made fun of Haymitch at every opportunity he could.  Listened as Haymitch grunted and grumbled in his office, as he studied the books and bitched that he couldn’t afford the new fancy-ass industrial mixer he had his eye on.  She’d been grateful that Peeta hadn’t changed towards her, that he acted exactly the same way as he had before their conversation following their interview.   Her lack of wanting to commit to anything serious just yet, to continue as they were, thankfully hadn’t put him off in the slightest.

The day had started out a good one.  She and Prim had picked out _Rear Window_ to watch that night, the one movie they had both loved as much as their parents had.  She’d finished a magazine submission piece on the healing properties of plants, something she’d been struggling to finish for days.  She’d arrived at the bakery, had two cheese buns for lunch and laughed when Peeta had smeared buttercream frosting across her cheek.  He’d told her in no uncertain terms it was begging to be licked off, and was playfully trailing his tongue across her cheek, taking the sweet confection with it, when Haymitch barged in through the door.  They jumped apart guiltily, though neither really knew why.

“I found this,” Haymitch threw the pile of papers on the bench in the bakery kitchen, averting his gaze.  Both Peeta and Katniss looked at him, surprised, at the thinly veiled anger in his voice.

“What is it?” Peeta asked, wiping his hands on a dishcloth and narrowing his eyes, trying to read the small print on the photocopied pages.  Katniss smirked to herself, wishing he’d just suck it up and go and order the glasses he so obviously needed.

“Oh, I just thought I’d look into your crash a little more.”

“Why?” Peeta asked, confused.

“Eh.  Curiosity mainly,” Haymitch replied blithely.  “But guess what I found out?”  Haymitch leant against the side counter, patted his pockets absently.  Katniss knew he was looking for his flask, but Peeta had laid down the law weeks ago.  _No alcohol in the bakery, unless it was for cooking_.

“What did you find?” she queried.

“Guess who owns roughly 50% of the station that airs _GMP_?”

Peeta rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms across his chest.  “Dammit, Haymitch, just tell us, would you?”

“A little someone called C. Snow.  Ever heard of him?”  Both Katniss and Peeta shook their heads, confused.  “Our friend C. Snow is also the head guy of Capitol Airlines.”

“So?” Peeta shrugged his shoulders.  “Probably why they had us on the show.  Easy to do when a big rich guy owns chunks of both.”

“C. Snow has also, quietly and quite cleverly, settled a number of potential lawsuits before any of them even got anywhere near a courtroom.  All wanting to sue for damages from incidents involving his airline.”  Haymitch pushed away from the counter and moved to the centre bench, bracing his hands on it.  “Heaven knows why I got sentimental in my old age, but I recorded that interview you two did.  Glad I did, because unlike 99.99% of the interviews they do on that show, yours wasn’t dumped on their website.  Guess what you were saying just before good old Caesar dropped your family bombshell?”  He looked at Katniss, waiting for the penny to drop.  She shook her head, panic starting to creep in.  “You said – and I quote - _I always figured those kind of things were locked down during turbulence or something, but I guess not_.  _And no one else was really helping him._    I’m guessing our friend Snow saw that as a little dig at the airline.”

“What?  About the drinks cart, and no-one helping him?” Katniss asked, bewildered.  “I don’t even really remember what I was saying.  I didn’t mean anything by it, wasn’t accusing them of anything.  I don’t even know if drinks carts _can_ be locked down!”

Haymitch shrugged.  “Well, neither do I.  But between you and me, sweetheart, I think Caesar had been given direction to deflect anything negative being said about the airline.  Even if it meant bringing up your family stuff.  Hell, do you think anyone remembered anything about that interview, other than you shutting down and the boy here getting all high and mighty?  I doubt it.  Just think about it.  In the 30 million years he’s been hosting that show, have you ever seen him do something like that before?  He’s not exactly a hard-hitting journalist.  Caesar Flickerman is about bunnies and rainbows and whatever food we need to eat to look younger and shit.  It’s just stupid morning television.”

“So let me get this straight,” Peeta interjected.  “You seem to believe that this Snow guy thinks Katniss said something detrimental about Capitol Airlines, and therefore collaborated with Caesar Flickerman to blindside her.”

“In a nutshell,” Haymitch shrugged. “Or if he didn’t collaborate, Flickerman was somehow coerced.”

“What makes him think Katniss would have said anything like that anyway?”

“Hell if I know, boy.  All I know for sure is what I found in that paperwork there.  And from there, I made some assumptions.  Maybe that’s all they are – assumptions.  But I figured they were worth looking into.”  He pushed away from the bench, moving back to the door leading back to the store.  “Don’t thank me though, will you.” He muttered, before pushing through the door back to the shop front.

Katniss stared after him for a moment, before glancing back at Peeta.  He was still squinting at the paperwork now strewn across the bench, fingers tracing across the pages.  She moved to stand beside him, picking up a piece at random and scanning through it.  From the looks of it, what Haymitch said about the lawsuits could be true.

“How did he get this stuff?” Katniss said softly, putting the paper down and picking up another.

“I have no idea,” Peeta replied, engrossed in his own document.  “Haymitch is a smart bastard, though.  If he wants to find something, he’ll find it.  He has a pretty good bullshit radar, has had for as long as I can remember.”

“Why did he do this?  Is he just paranoid or something?”

Peeta put the paper down, straightening up.  “You heard him.  He didn’t like what Caesar did.  And, to be honest, he’s right.  I’ve never seen Caesar Flickerman do something like that in an interview before, not pull something out completely left of centre, unrelated to the story.  And he seemed as horrified as we did at your response.  I don’t think he intended for that to happen.”

Katniss dropped the document she’d been holding.  “Yeah, but I could have been totally fine with the question.  I could have been all ‘Oh, I’m fine Caesar! No problems!’.”

Peeta shrugged.  “I don’t know the answer to that.  We don’t even know if this is all true.  _But_ if it is, I don’t think we’re dealing with an amateur.  This Snow guy has obviously been putting out fires for a while now with that airline, sweeping a lot of stuff under the rug.”

“If that’s the case, are you telling me Haymitch is the first person to pick up on this?  That no-one else has?”

“Don’t underestimate the guy,” Peeta grinned wryly.  “If he wants to find something, he’ll find it.  He hasn’t been looking after this bakery his entire life, you know.”  He gestured towards the paperwork.  “Plus from looking at the few documents that I have so far, these threats to sue haven’t all been bunched up, they’ve been spread over the last ten years, and aren’t restricted to one type of aircraft or flying route.  They’re big enough to cause issue for the people involved, but small enough for them to not warrant a lot of attention.  And if they were paid well, then…..” Peeta trailed off, and Katniss watched his eyes narrow in thought.  “Huh.  Maybe our interviews were pre-emptive.  Get a little happy, feel good press for the airline, and give us some money up front to make us less likely to do anything more.”

Katniss brow furrowed in confusion.  “But I wouldn’t have even considered that!  They covered our medical bills.  That’s all I cared about.  And interviews?  Why would you do that?  Wouldn’t you just want it all to….go away?”

Peeta reached forward, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and drawing her closer.  He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, in a comforting gesture she’d come to realise was a habit.  “I don’t know, Katniss, I really don’t.  Your comment was so blasé, off the cuff, that it wouldn’t have even registered with me that it _could_ be seen as detrimental.  But people do weird things when they panic, when they think their empire or whatever is crumbling around them.   We already know it was legitimate mechanical issues that couldn’t have been avoided that _did_ cause our crash.  But if some of their other practices aren’t right or lazy or up to standard, this Snow guy might just be a little concerned for himself, that they’ll be investigated more, beyond just our crash.”  He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then rested his against hers.   “Katniss, the fact that they wanted us to do these interviews… They don’t know you, and they don’t know me.  I guess they couldn’t have known that we wouldn’t take it further, that it wouldn’t even enter our minds.”

Katniss sighed, nodding gently.  Here she was, trying to do the right thing by Peeta, by her sister, and she’d accidentally caused a chain reaction of events she wasn’t even expecting.  “So what do we do now?”

“We get more evidence,” Peeta replied.   He lifted his head, tucking hers under his chin, and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.  “Maybe Caesar really was just being a douchebag to you, and Snow has nothing to do with our interview.  Regardless, though, after seeing some of those papers, I kind of feel obliged to find out more about these other situations.  None of _them_ seem coincidental.”

Katniss was quiet for a moment as she mulled over his words.  Was she prepared to do something like this?  Was it something she even had any right, or responsibility, to even worry about?  If all those other people were fine with how things had settled, then why should she?

But then she remembered how she felt in the crash, in the moments leading up to it, the terror of thinking she was going to die, that Prim was going to die, that the man beside her that she’d only just met was going to die.  Even if none of these other people had ever been in a situation like theirs, future passengers _could_.  And she didn’t want anyone to experience what she had, not if she could help it.

“Ok,” she finally replied.  “I guess we ask Haymitch to look into it more.  Because I’d have no idea what I was looking for.”  She shifted her head back so she could look up at him.  “This wasn’t something I expected to happen, you know.”

“Me either,” Peeta said simply.  “But I guess I never expected to be in a plane crash either.”

“True,” she whispered.  Most things she had never expected to happen.

********

The afternoon before their second interview, Katniss picked a bunch of flowers from her garden, and went to do something she’d been putting off for too long.

She went to visit her parents.

Crossing her legs in front of her, she played with the flowers in her lap, studied the words carved into granite.  Prim did this often, she knew, but she always felt self-conscious when she did.  But there were times, she figured, when you just had to get over yourself.

“Hey,” she started softly.  “I, uh, I’m sorry I haven’t been here for a while.  Things have been a little crazy.  I’m guessing Prim’s filled you in about what happened, so I won’t worry about doing that.  I’m, um, on my way to New York tonight, catching the evening train.  Doing an interview with Matt Lauer tomorrow.  I figured you’d love that, Mom.” She paused, gathering her thoughts.  “I’ve got an appointment with a specialist later this week.  I’m going to need some surgery on my ear.  But that’s ok, it’s covered.  We don’t have to worry about paying for it.”  Thinking about the appointment she’d only confirmed today made her think of the airline, which made her think of the paperwork Haymitch had thrown at them two days before.  Which made her lips firm in anger, and she sighed. 

“I think I made a mistake.  I accidentally said something I shouldn’t have, but didn’t realise at the time that I was doing anything wrong.  I think someone isn’t very happy at me because of it, though I didn’t mean to.  But I think something good might come of it all.  Peeta and I might be able to help some people.  Or, at least, make some people take responsibility for their actions.”  She smiled softly to herself, twisting the end of her braid between her fingers.  “You guys would like Peeta.  He’s a good guy.  He’s funny, and smart, and Mom, he can _bake_.  You might remember his family, they used to run the bakery where Finnick and Annie work.  He’s….he’s helped me a lot through all of this.  And he seems to like me, and not be an asshole, which is a change.  Uh, sorry Dad,” she apologised.  “Didn’t mean to curse.  But yeah.  We’re dating, and I think he’s the best thing to happen to me in a long time.  He told me the other day he sees something serious for us, and it kind of freaked me out.  I don’t even know why.  I just don’t know.  I think I need to sort myself out before I can think of anything more, right?”  She fell silent as a lump formed in her throat.  A slight breeze picked up, whipping loose strands of hair across her face.  A lone bird called in the distance, an almost lyrical, musical sound that reminded her of being young and camping in the bush, fishing out at the lake.  Being with her parents.

“I miss you guys,” she finally mumbled.  “Some days I don’t even think about it, and others… like since last Friday?  Every day since then, I’ve needed to feel closer to you somehow, and I’ve thought about you so much more than I have in a long time.  I’m sorry I was really scarce that last year.  I just wanted to make you proud, you know?  And then you were gone, and it didn’t matter anymore.  Nothing did, except for Prim.”  Her words began to tumble over each other as she tried to get everything out that she needed to say.  “And now I’m thinking about letting someone else in.  For good.  I don’t even know if I’m ready.  Hell, since the crash I find it hard to get off the couch some days, let alone think about whether I’m ready to take that kind of step.  He’s not asking for forever, I know that.  And he’s giving me time.  But I just… I don’t know.”  Her shoulders slumped as she finished, purging out thoughts and feelings she knew she wasn’t going to get answers to, not here.  But just getting them out there, out of her head, felt right.  Made her feel better about what she had ahead.

Glancing at her watch, and realising she needed to get moving or she’d miss the train, Katniss leant over, placing the flowers on the ground.  She stood, and pressed her fingers to her lips, then laid them against the cool stone. “I love you guys.  And I’ll come back….sooner or later.”  She turned, made her way carefully through the grounds to her car.

And began to prepare herself for the next day.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Thanks for your comments and kudos. They're much appreciated. :)
> 
> I'm a little hesitant about this chapter, but just needed to throw it out there otherwise I will stress over it for days!


	10. Chapter 10

Katniss laid her head against the back of the smooth, cool, leather of her seat, thankful for the solitude of the private room.  She hadn’t even known private rooms on trains existed, other than on long-haul trips.  But apparently this train had them, and at least now the three hour ride to New York was going to be one she could enjoy without worrying about prying eyes and curious glances.

She’d been thankful when Peeta had stood firm with her when she’d requested they travel to New York by train.  It was, of course, going to take them over twice as long, but she knew she wasn’t ready to step on a plane just yet.  Effie had – reluctantly – acquiesced to their wishes, after much consternation over it being a ‘waste of time’.  And after watching Peeta hold the phone receiver to his ear for at least fifteen minutes while Effie waxed lyrical about the importance of punctuality, she’d also been thankful to find Effie had been allocated a separate private room on the train to them.

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her pocket, unlocking it to see a message from Prim.

_Good luck.  I know you won’t need it, but just in case they try to pull shit on you again, remember what I told you. P._

She smiled to herself, remembering how protective Prim had been over the days after the interview with Caesar.  She’d spent the entire following day calming the younger woman down and talking her out of _‘giving that man a piece of my mind’._   She’d been adamant that she would take the days off work to travel to New York with Katniss, until Peeta had assured her he wouldn’t let anything happen this time.

It said something for Peeta that Prim hadn’t doubted him at all.

Katniss glanced at her watch, wondering where Peeta was.  The train was due to leave in 5 minutes, and while she’d gotten to the station in plenty of time after leaving the cemetery, she assumed he wouldn’t be far behind her.  Half an hour later, she was beginning to worry.  What if he’d gotten delayed?  What if he wasn’t coming anymore?  What if-

“Hey Katniss,” Peeta breathed out, pushing through the door and closing it quickly behind him.  He was limping and out of breath, his face flushed, and with a heavy duffle bag slung over his shoulder.  She watched him, relief coursing through her, as he practically threw the bag in the overhead compartment and slumped onto the seat beside her.

“You ok?” she asked.  He nodded, eyes closed, breath coming in fits and starts.

“Yeah,” he wheezed.  “Car freaking broke down five blocks away.  Had to attempt to limp/run/hobble the rest of the way, otherwise I wouldn’t have made it.  Man, I did wrestling in college, not track. And my leg…..dammit, it’s not ready for that kind of exercise yet.  I’m not cut out for that shit.”

Katniss couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth.  “What did you do with the car?” She queried.

“Left it on the side of the road.  Called Haymitch.  He has a spare set of keys.  He can get it sorted over the weekend.”  Peeta leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands dangling limply towards the ground, and without thinking Katniss reached a hand out, rubbing reassuring circles against the small of his back.

“Well I guess you can afford a new one soon,” she said lightly.  He turned his head, glancing back at her, one eyebrow raised.

“I guess you’re right,” he muttered.  She could feel his breathing start to level out, and when he sat up straight again, the bloom of red covering his face had slowly begun to fade to a pale pink.  She moved her hand from his back and offered him the bottle of water at her side; he took it thankfully, gulping the cool liquid down greedily.  He twisted the cap back on and handed it back to her, leaning back against the seat again.  “Thanks.  I’ll head down to the food car soon, get you another one.”

Katniss waved it aside, then felt a lurch as the train began to move away from the platform.  Her heart thudded nervously – the train moving meant they were officially on their way, and one step closer to New York – and without even asking for it, she felt Peeta’s hand envelope hers on the seat between them.

“It’s going to be ok,” he said softly.  “We just know to be more guarded this time.” She nodded, but didn’t reply.

She was quiet for a while, listening to the faint, repetitive movement of the train, watching the lights of Panem flash by the window beside her seat.  She knew soon enough they would be out into open fields for a short time, and the sky would be pitch black, nothing but a faint smattering of stars.  She knew she was going to enjoy that part of the trip the most.  The expanse of nothingness.

She saw from the corner of her eye Peeta move from their room quietly, then return ten minutes later, bottles of water and sandwiches in plastic containers in his hand. He held one out to her as she glanced over at him.

“I just got us some sandwiches, I hope that’s ok,” he said.  She took one of the sandwiches from him, along with one of the waters.

“Thanks,” Katniss said softly.  She turned to look back out the window, taking one of the perfectly sliced triangles from the container and biting into the corner of it.  She felt him move in close to her, peering around her shoulder.  They’d finally moved out into the open fields she’d been looking forward to.

“I always liked this area just outside of Panem before we moved,” Peeta commented, holding his still wrapped sandwich in his hands.  “All open fields, full of nothing and everything.  And it’s just as nice when you can see nothing but the stars.”

She tuned to him, slightly surprised that his thoughts aligned so similarly to hers, though she knew she shouldn’t have been.  He always seemed to say the right thing at the right time. 

They ate, and chatted about nothing in particular.  The more Katniss spoke with him, the more comfortable she felt making casual conversation.  She’d never been one for talking, but something in him seemed to bring it out in her.  With him, the words she wanted to say were a lot easier to find.

“So, uh, Haymitch and I have been doing a bit of digging since he spoke to us,” Peeta started eventually.  “I thought you might be interested in looking through some of the new papers he dug up.”  Katniss shrugged, watching as he stood, reaching up for his duffel bag.  His shirt rode up, baring a strip of the bare skin of his torso.  She couldn’t stop staring at it, remembering how his skin felt under her fingertips. She quickly glanced away before he caught her staring.

The thick pile of paper landed with a thud beside her on the seat, and her mouth dropped open as she looked at them.  “Seriously?” she asked, reaching over and flicking the corners of the paper.  _There had to be hundreds of them._

“Absolutely,” Peeta replied, pulling out a navy blue and red long sleeved shirt from his bag and slipping it on before sitting on the other side of the pile of papers. 

“Where on earth did Haymitch find all this?” Katniss eyed the pile hesitantly, hoping it had all been obtained through legal means.

“He has a few buddies, apparently, and it’s all above board,” Peeta said simply and shrugged, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows.  “I didn’t ask anything more than that.” 

Katniss nodded, and pulled a dozen pages off the top.  “I guess we start reading them,” she began, “Although I’m still not entirely sure what I’m looking for.”

“I think we’ll know when we see something,” he replied positively.

Paper upon paper spread across the seat as they began to make their way through the stack.  Occasionally one or the other would point out a particular paragraph or reference, discuss what type of payment Cecelia Blundell had received, how quickly the potential case brought forward by Jonathan Gloss was finalised.  Katniss still couldn’t grasp how so many incidents had been swept under the rug, couldn’t understand how no-one else had never joined all these dots before.  But the figures that were presented in front of her partially gave her the answer.

“This guy,” she started, pushing the piece of paper in her lap towards Peeta, “Charles ‘Chaff’ Flinders, lost his freaking _hand_ in an incident after a flight from Atlanta to Denver, and settled for a lovely round sum of 5 million.  _5 million_ , Peeta.  On top of all of Flinders medical bills, it seems.  This Snow is giving out money like its chump change, and for what?  To save his reputation?”

“To save his empire, more like it,” Peeta muttered.  He looked up at her, eyes glazed over from looking at the papers for almost an hour straight.  “It might look like Snow’s throwing money about, but he’s smart.  Bad press and lawsuits would cost him far more in the long run.  It’s like he finds out what it will take to get them to go away…and he meets that.  He’s generous enough that people just don’t bother doing anything more about it.”

“Generous,” Katniss snorted.  “A generous asshole.”  Peeta nodded in agreement and closed his eyes.  She studied him in concern.  “Are you ok?”

He opened his eyes, grinning tiredly.  “Yeah.  Just exhausted.  And my eyes hurt.  And before you say any more, yes, I’ll look into getting some glasses.  Between you, Haymitch and Annie…..”  He trailed off, and straightened up the paperwork spread across his lap, placing it on the other side of the seat.  “But I need to take a break.  It’s kind of depressing and infuriating at the same time.”  Katniss followed suit, dumping her papers in between her and the window.

“You’re right.  There just seems to be so many…injustices.  Like, I know these people obviously accepted this money and were happy enough with it.  But I don’t think Snow should get away with what he’s doing.  I mean, one day, someone could get……” She trailed off, realising that was she was about to say ‘killed’, and it _had_ already happened.  And while the events that led to it couldn’t have prevented their accident, it was still a blazing reminder that if the airline had been held to account on other occurrences, maybe, _just maybe_ , things may have been different.

Peeta reached his arm out, tucking it around her and drawing her close to his side.  She paused for a moment, before allowing her head to rest gently against his shoulder.  His fingers played with the ends of her hair and he sighed softly.  “I think, with what we’ve managed to pull together here, that we won’t even have to do very much at all.  Hell, just handing this over to whomever the proper authority would be is likely to be more than enough to get this guy in a shitload of trouble.  Once we’re back from New York, we’ll look into it, and send this all off.  And be done with it.”

“I agree,” Katniss said quietly.  She closed her eyes, and thought back to the afternoon they’d woken in her bed, warmed by the late sun, Peeta’s fingers trailing down the length of her hair.  And wished she was there.

Their quiet was broken by a loud chattering, and they realised with a start that it was Effie’s voice coming down the hallway leading to their compartment, gaily announcing that she was _‘heading to speak to them right’_ now.  They looked at each other - and at the paperwork scattered around them - in horror.

“Shit!” Katniss hissed.  “We don’t want her to see this!”  Peeta nodded, and pulling his arm from around Katniss, yanked off the long sleeved shirt he wore, hurriedly shoving the papers under it.  _Dammit, there was too much of it, too much to hide under the shirt without raising suspicion._   Katniss watched as Peeta glanced at the door, then back at her, and with only moment to spare, grabbed her by the waist, pulling her onto his lap and crushing his lips to hers.

“And I- Oh!  Oh!  Oh my goodness!”  They broke apart to see Effie standing in the now open doorway, mouth opening and closing like a fish, iphone pressed to her ear.  Her bright red lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as she continued to stare at them; at the way Katniss was straddling Peeta’s lap, the way her fingers had curled into his hair, the way his hands were clasped firmly on her ass.  “Oh, um, I’ll…I’ll come back later!” Effie stuttered, tottering backwards on her heels and slamming the door behind her.  They could hear her shrill voice as she stalked away. “Well, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to speak to them later, because for goodness sake, they were practically _fornicating_ in there!” They looked at each other, unable to help the snorts of laughter that escaped.

“Sorry,” Peeta apologised.  “But I thought it was the easiest way to get rid of her.  She seems pretty….proper.”  He looked away from her sheepishly.  “Uh, you can move if you like.”

She nodded, half relieved and half disappointed.  She liked being that close to him, liked the feel of his body against hers…..but her head was too full of questions, and confusion and an impending sense of nervousness for their interview.  _And they were on a train, for crying out loud, now was not the time._ She shifted, sliding off his lap and back onto the seat beside him, her fingers laced together in front of her.  They were silent for a moment, and Katniss wondered if he could hear the thundering of her heart as clearly as she could.

“You didn’t have to apologise,” she said softly.

“Yeah I did.  I just dragged you onto my lap without even asking,” he reminded her.  “Basically to freak out Effie.”

She shrugged.  “And there I was thinking you just wanted to cop a feel,” she said lightly, her lips still tingling from his kiss.  She felt him freeze beside her, could feel his intent gaze lingering on her.

“Well….that was definitely an added benefit.” Peeta’s voice was low, throaty.

“Yeah,” she said hesitantly, surprising even herself by admitting it out loud.

“So you agree?”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” she replied, not sure what else to say.  She stared down at her lap, watched as his hand snaked out, gripping her hands between his.  Peeta tugged on them lightly, so that she instinctively looked up at him.  His Adams apple bobbed, and she could see the muscle twitching in his jaw from setting it.  He was looking at her so _seriously_ , she thought, eyes full of want and need and…something more.  But she couldn’t place it.

Or didn’t _want_ to place it.

He half turned to her, their shoulders bumping and aligning to each other.  His free hand reached up, cupping her cheek, and her eyes closed as his fingers danced across her cheekbone, smoothed across her brow.  If her heart had been thundering loudly before, it was engulfing her now, blood pounding in her ears, through her veins.  He leant forward until his forehead was resting against hers, and he drew their joined hands up flattening her palms against his chest.  She was surprised to feel the thudding of his own heart, beating out a rhythm that was as erratic as her own.

“We’re on….a train,” she whispered, as he pressed a light kiss first to one corner of her mouth, then the other.

She felt him grin against her cheek and his lips pressed to the edge of her jaw, close enough to the soft skin below her earlobe to cause her to shiver.  “So?  Effie already thinks we’re…. _fornicating_ ,” he emphasised.  She chuckled, felt an echoing rumble in his chest, but remained still as his lips continued a soft trail along her cheek.

“Effie’s not right all the time, is she?” Katniss replied softly, absently twisting the fabric of his shirt between her fingers as his lips laid against her closed eyelid. 

Then Peeta pulled his head back, waiting for Katniss to open her eyes.  “No,” he said simply, when she did.  He waited until her gaze was locked with his.  “But when we’re not on a train, Katniss, and we’re alone……” He trailed off, pulling his hand away from hers.  She didn’t move her own, kept them planted firmly on his chest.  They stared at each other, almost like a battle of wills, until Katniss couldn’t help but avert her eyes.

Peeta didn’t say anything more, simply moved his arm around her and pulled her close like he had earlier.  She dropped one of her arms back to her lap before hesitantly sliding the other around his waist, resting her hand against the waistband of his jeans. 

She knew what he was alluding to; he didn’t have to say it.  Not when it was pretty damn obvious that both of them knew where this was going.  Even though it felt like he was two steps ahead of her and she was always trying to catch up.  Even though she still didn’t want to get herself in too deep just yet.

_Even though she was pretty sure she was already damn well there._

********

It was the city that never sleeps, but as Katniss waited in the hotel lobby while Effie checked them in, she was certain that’s all she _wanted_ to do.

The rest of the train trip had been uneventful, and while both she and Peeta had remained on edge prepared for a return visit from Effie, it had never eventuated.

“Well, we’re in luck!  Capitol Airlines never does things by halves, you know,” Effie announced as she moved back to them, door cards in hand.  “Mr Snow is being so wonderfully gracious and supportive of the two of you during all of this.  Only the best for our lovebirds - we’ve all been allocated rooms on the top floor of the hotel, how wonderful!  Just imagine the views!”  Katniss wasn’t sure whether Effie was more excited by the prospect of a view of New York, or the fact she’d been given a room on the top floor.

“That’s great,” Peeta said smoothly, reaching out a hand for his key.  Effie handed his over, then gave Katniss hers, before clutching the long handle of her lime green suitcase.  “Ah, before you go, Effie, was there something you wanted to speak to us about earlier on the train?”  Katniss stifled a smile as she watched the colour rise on Effie’s cheeks.

“Oh…well, it- it really wasn’t anything important,” she stammered.  “I had just been speaking to one of the travel planners at Capitol – they wanted to know if you required any sightseeing tours booked while you were in the city.  But I, well, I assume you’ll be perfectly fine doing- I mean, organising your own activities.” 

“We’ll be fine, Effie, thank you,” Peeta replied with a smile.  She nodded, and sharply turned on her heel towards the bank of elevators, Peeta and Katniss following in her wake.  By the time they were ensconced in the small space, the elevator smoothly rising to the top floor, she was chattering loudly about what restaurant she was going to go to for a late supper, how she was looking forward to catching up with friends she hadn’t seen since last years’ fashion festivals. 

The elevator doors slid open, and with barely restrained relief, Katniss stepped out, checking the number on the two doors closest to her to know which way to turn.  She muttered a good night to Effie, moved left down the hallway and noted Peeta followed her.  Effie moved in the opposite direction.

“Oh, Peeta, Katniss!” Effie called.  They both half turned.  “We need to be on our way to Rockefeller Plaza by 6.30am, so don’t be late!  It’s a very, very important interview you know!”  She tossed them a small finger wave and continued on her way, humming the annoying tune that had been playing the elevator.

Katniss rolled her eyes.  “Well, I’m pretty much going to order room service and crash,” She told Peeta, tugging on her suitcase as one of the old, ragged wheels caught on the carpet.  She heard it squeak, and vaguely wished she’d thought to ask Prim if she could borrow her much newer – and nicer – one.

“Yeah, me too,” Peeta replied.  “Today was…long.  And tomorrow will be as well.”  Katniss nodded, and stopped when she saw the numbers to her room in bold black script on a door.

“This is me,” she said unnecessarily.  He looked down at the numbers on his own card, and up at the door directly opposite hers. 

“And that’s me,” he pointed. 

“Ok.”

“Ok.”

Katniss stood, wondering what to do.  Part of her wanted to invite him in.  But the other part, the part that wasn’t quite ready for that yet, won out.

“Good night, Peeta,” she finally said, leaning over and kissing his cheek.  She turned, inserted the electronic key in the lock and opened the door.  She glanced back over her shoulder to see Peeta watching her quietly.

“Good night, Katniss,” he replied, then turned to his own door.

She stepped inside and closed hers, leaning against it the minute the lock was in place.  And briefly wondered if she’d made the wrong decision.

********

True to his promise to Prim, Peeta ensured that the interview went nowhere near the topic of Alice and James Everdeen.  Granted, neither of them expected it – this station was vastly different to the station that aired _Good Morning Panem_ back home – but there had still been the element of _what if?_

Their morning had been frantic, as they moved from hotel to the television studio, through make-up and wardrobe.  Katniss had listened as Effie tried to remind them how much of the country was going to see this interview ( _like she needed to be reminded)_ , and then watched, more than a little bemused, as Effie stood nervously just behind camera, watching them intently as they went to air.  There was a… _charge_ in this studio that hadn’t been there for their last interview, and Katniss couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

In the end, the interview was light and fluffy, focused on Katniss’ relationship with Prim, Peeta owning his own bakery.  The few delicate questions they got in relation to the crash itself, they deflected gently.  Both were careful not to say anything that could be seen as the slightest bit negative towards Capitol Airline, or its owner.

They’d save that for their return from New York.

They acknowledged the few dates they had been on, agreed that, yes, sometimes good things can come out of bad situations.  Laughed awkwardly when the question of _happily ever after_ was brought up, politely declined when asked to share a kiss.

It was, quite possibly, the longest ten minutes of Katniss’ life.

Finally, Katniss breathed out a sigh of relief as she leant on the railing, looking down at the late morning diners in the plaza.  _It was over_.  They were done.  No more interviews.  

“You ok?”  Peeta’s voice came from behind her, and she half turned to see him standing, hands shoved in his pockets.  “You hightailed it out of there pretty quick.”  He moved towards her, limping a little, his hands curling over the rail beside her.

“Just…glad it’s over,” she sighed. 

He nodded. “Me too.  Now all we have to do is go home, get the head honchos of the Capitol to sign on the dotted line, and we’re free.  No more obligations.”

“Not entirely free.  I have to see the specialist again on Friday,” Katniss reminded him.  “And then look into all that dodgy Capitol stuff.”

“The ‘dodgy Capitol stuff’, as you call it, isn’t an obligation, Katniss, or something we necessarily need to do.  If you don’t want to, if you just want to try and forget about it all, that’s fine.”  His voice was steady, even, non-committal.  But she didn’t buy it for a moment.

“C’mon, Peeta,” she sighed.  “You won’t let this go.  And you know I won’t either.  Not with everything we’ve found out.  Maybe ‘We’re Free’ was the wrong term to use.  Maybe….maybe we just call it the time for our opportunity to rebel against the man.” 

Peeta smirked, then turned to lean against the railing, looking up at the lines of flags fluttering in the breeze.  Then he sighed.  “Effie’s coming our way.”

“Shit,” Katniss muttered.  She turned, plastering as genuine a smile as she could on her face.  And then it dropped.  “Is that……..”  She trailed off, glancing up at Peeta at the same time her hand reached out instinctively to grab his.

“Yup,” he replied softly.  They waited until Effie stood directly in front of them, her face slightly flushed, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“Katniss, Peeta, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! I thought it would be lovely for us to go out for lunch together, now that you’ve so kindly finished your interviews for us.  And I thought it would be a nice opportunity for you to meet my esteemed employer – the very gracious Coriolanus Snow.”

Katniss glanced down at the hand that stretched out towards her, then up at the eyes that seemed to burn into her.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Everdeen, Mr Mellark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I appreciate it a lot :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in this chapter. I participated in the Everlarkrecs THG Fairy Tale Challenge, and then was ill for what seemed like forever. Thanks for your patience, your kudos, comments and for reading!

Katniss allowed the napkin to be laid across her lap, all the while trying to look everywhere but at Snow.  It wasn’t exactly where she imagined she’d be having lunch, but she supposed Le Bernardin – whatever the hell it was – was right up his alley.  Peeta’s eyebrows had almost risen up to his hairline, and his hand had squeezed hers when Effie had announced where they’d be dining, and he’d managed to keep his voice neutral when he asked if they could give he and Katniss a moment to discuss.

“Do you want to go?” he’d asked, once they were firmly out of earshot.  Katniss had shrugged, knowing while she didn’t really want to, a part of her was curious to meet the man they had researched so much about.  “I don’t care either way, but I’ve heard of this restaurant, and there is no way in hell I’d be able to afford to go there otherwise.  Plus, you have to make reservations weeks in advance.  And, I guess, a part of me is curious about this guy….” He’d trailed off, and while he’d tried to contain it, Katniss could tell how keen he was to go – if not for lunch with Snow and Effie, but at least to visit this restaurant.  So she’d agreed, more for Peeta than anything.  He’d done so much for her already; this was such a small thing she could do in return.

And if it gave her the opportunity to study the man she’d somehow come to start seeing as their enemy, then all the better.

They’d declined the offer of travelling in a private car, and had spent the next few hours wandering in and around Fifth Avenue, electing to take their own cab when it came time to meet.  Peeta had assured her they wouldn’t stay too long, and that if anything made her uncomfortable, to tell him.  She’d assured him she would be fine.  Although staring across at the man now, she wasn’t so sure.

His white hair was perfectly coiffed, beady eyes a brown so deep they were almost black.  His suit was perfectly tailored, highlighted by a small white rose in the breast pocket, the faintest blush of pink along the edges.

Conversation was proper, bordering on prim while their orders were taken.  Effie chattered constantly, filling the silence that Katniss refused to occupy.

She didn’t focus on the food, couldn’t taste a thing, although she was sure it was delicious.  Peeta politely maintained conversation with Effie and Snow, while Katniss remained silent.  She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or not, but she was certain she felt Snow’s eyes burning into her, studying her from across the table. 

She heard vague congratulations on their interviews, an over-bubbly thank you from Effie to accompany it.  A brief discussion over what Matt Lauer had been wearing and effusive comments on the food presented to them.  But she didn’t – or couldn’t – concentrate on any of them, nor did she feel like contributing.

“And your injuries, Miss Everdeen?  They are healing well?”  The smooth, cultured tones broke through her reverie and she looked up from her plate to see Peeta, Effie and Snow all looking at her expectantly.  Peeta’s hand reached out and squeezed her knee gently under the table.  “Mr Mellark was updating me on the progress of his rehabilitation, which seems to be going well.  I’m led to believe you’re seeing a specialist this week for your ear?”

“Ah, yes.  Yes I am.  Hopefully I’ll be able to have it all fixed.”

“Of course.  And we at Capitol couldn’t agree more.”  She watched as Snow dabbed the corner of his mouth delicately with his napkin, and picked up the glass of wine beside him, swirling the blood red liquid inside.  “I trust your sister is doing well?  I have seen her at the hospital a number of times – a little firecracker she is.”

Katniss sat up straight in her chair, eyes narrowing.  “I didn’t realise you were a frequent visitor there,” she replied.  “Although I am aware Capitol has been very generous towards those who were injured in the crash.”

Snow studied her over the rim of his glass before sipping.  “It is the least we can do for our passengers, Miss Everdeen.  But yes, I am a frequent visitor to the hospital.  My father was a benefactor, and I have continued the same in his good stead.”

“Isn’t that just wonderful?” Effie trilled, waving her fingers in the air to get the attention of the waiter.

“Just wonderful,” Katniss echoed.  Her stomach felt like it was lined with lead. 

“And your sister – Primrose, isn’t it?” Snow asked, though Katniss knew he already knew the question.  “She enjoys her work there?”

“She does,” Peeta injected smoothly, noting Katniss’ hesitance. “She was terrific while I was in there following my injury.  She’ll make a great nurse one day.”

“Will she, Mr Mellark?  That is good to hear.” He paused, waited for his plate to be cleared from in front of him.  “Those traineeships are a wonderful thing, I’m always pleased to know that programs the Capitol sponsors are being of good use.  They’ve been very fortunate at Panem General that their programs for trainee nurses haven’t gone the same way as a few of the other hospitals in state.”

Katniss felt her heart clench, and the corresponding tightening of Peeta’s fingers on her knee.  _What the hell was this guy trying to insinuate?_

“Yes, very lucky,” she replied through clenched teeth.

“Now, now, Coriolanus, please. Such serious table talk!  Let’s order some dessert shall we?  Such a shame they don’t have chocolate covered strawberries on the menu, I have absolutely been craving them for days now!” Effie chattered mindlessly, oblivious to the tension that had settled across the table.

Katniss declined dessert, watching as Peeta and Effie tucked into sugary confections and Snow nursed a single cup of coffee – black, no sugar.  And was more than thankful when it was finally over, and they were making their way outside, the sky a low and threatening grey that seemed to match her mood perfectly.

 “Thank you for lunch,” Peeta said to Snow as Effie made her way to the town car idling quietly at the curb.  He held out his hand, shaking Snow’s before moving off to hold his arm out to hail a cab.  As much as she didn’t want to, Katniss reluctantly held her own out, but was startled as Snow’s hand gripped hers tightly. 

“All the very best, Miss Everdeen,” he said smoothly, his voice low and measured.  “I do hope things work out for both you and your sister, and Mr Mellark of course.”

“So do I,” she replied shortly, trying to tug her hand away.  He wouldn’t let it go, and it felt brittle and rough, like sandpaper, against hers.

“We do appreciate the time you took to do these interviews,” Snow told her.  “Everyone at Capitol has been enchanted with your love story.”

Katniss blushed, looking away.  “I’m happy they’re over, to be honest.”

“Oh?  Didn’t care for the spotlight?”

“Not particularly,” she replied, resigned to the fact he wasn’t letting her hand go any time soon.  “I’m not one for talking about private things publicly.”

“Neither am I.  Some things are definitely best kept out of the public arena.” He studied her silently, his eyes considering.  “Can I ask you a question?”

She shrugged, glancing towards Peeta who was still preoccupied in hailing a cab.  “I suppose.”

“I like to think we make our own destinies, don’t you, Miss Everdeen?  That the actions we choose create our future?  Or of those around us?”  Neither his eyes or his voice betrayed anything but sincerity, but she knew sincerity had nothing to do with it.

She narrowed her eyes at him, finally tugging her hand out of his grasp.  “What are you trying to say, Mr Snow?”

He smiled, a slow, cold smile that began and ended with the curve of his lips and ventured nowhere near his eyes.  “Nothing, Miss Everdeen, nothing at all.  Just asking you a simple question.  I do wish you the best for your future.  Good day to you.” With that he held her gaze for a moment longer, then slid into the car, pulling the door closed behind him.  She watched the car pull away and move into the traffic, wondering what the hell had just happened.

********

The park was filled with kids, the cherry blossoms in full bloom.  Giggles and shouts echoed as boats drifted across the pond.

Katniss sat and watched them silently, Peeta beside her. They’d agreed to come to the park after lunch, in the morning when they’d still been a combination of relieved that the interviews were over and curious about Snow.

Now, they were neither.

Katniss had hardly uttered a word since they’d left the restaurant, though Peeta had tried multiple times to engage her in conversation.  He’d given up when it became obvious she wasn’t interested.  So instead they sat, and watched.

“He asked me if I thought that the actions we chose create our future,” she said finally.  Peeta glanced at her in surprise, though she continued to stare out to the pond.

“Snow did?  When?”

“When you were hailing the cab.  He wouldn’t let go of my hand, and he asked me that.  What do you think it means?”

Peeta shrugged.  “It could mean anything.  What do _you_ think it means?”

“I don’t know.  He just…. _stared_ at me.  Like, right through me as he said it.  And before that…..He brought up Prim.” She turned to him.   “Did you know about his involvement with the hospital?”

“I had no idea.”  He crossed his arms across his chest.  “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.  But why did he ask me about Prim?  Why was he acting all….weird?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you.  He seems like a strange guy.  And from what we’ve found, not a very nice one.  Maybe he just likes niggling at people.  He would have seen how you acted with Caesar.  Maybe he just wanted to see how you’d act when he brought up Prim.  Maybe….” He trailed off, glancing away.

“Maybe what?”

“Never mind.”

Katniss wrapped her fingers around his arm, pulling him around to face her.  “Maybe _what_ , Peeta?”

He sighed, reach up and rubbing the back of his neck.  “Maybe he knows that we’ve seen those documents.”

Her mouth dropped open.  “What, you think he’ll do something to Prim if we go to the authorities with what we’ve found.  That….That he’ll cut his funding to the hospital or something?  How would he even know we’ve seen those papers?”  Her voice rose in octaves the more she spoke, and Peeta reached out, resting his hand on the back of her neck and threading his hand through her hair

“Shh, Katniss.  I don’t know.  I’m just saying.  Don’t-don’t worry about something we don’t even know is true.”

“But it sounds pretty likely.  How did he find out?  How-”

“Katniss.” Peeta cut her off, lifting his other hand to cup her cheek.  “Forget I said it.  Don’t worry about it.  He was probably just being a creepy old guy.  He probably doesn’t know.  Just…..don’t worry.”

But she did.  All through the afternoon, as they wandered aimlessly through the city streets, as they rode the subway, as they caught the ferry to Staten Island and back.  She felt herself closing down, shutting off, folding herself into her own body.  She kept Peeta at arms length, not allowing him to touch her.  She couldn’t handle the intimacy right now, not even the feel of a hand in hers, a touch to the small of her back.  But she ached for it, craved it, the moment he stopped trying, the moment he started walking that little bit further away from her.  And wondered if every decision she made, every action she took, would hurt someone in some way.

********

Katniss stared out the window at the lights that flashed and shimmered through the glass, listened to the muffled honking of horns, the rumble of the traffic below. The rain slid steadily down the window, giving the city below a watery glow.

She turned, and found Peeta studying her silently.   “I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said finally, heading towards the door.

“No, wait,” she replied, so quietly she wasn’t sure he’d heard her.  But he had, his fingers stilling on the doorknob.  Her voice cracked as his head turned and their eyes locked.  “I don’t want to be alone right now.  Stay with me.”

“Are you sure?  It’s been a long day.  Maybe you just need to sleep.” His voice gave away his wariness, and she stepped towards him.

“Yes.  Completely sure.  There’s…..there’s no-one else I would rather have with me right now than you.”

Peeta moved away from the door, stopping in front of her.  “Ok then.  What say we order some room service and-”

She cut him off, gripping onto the collar of his shirt and tugging him to her, pressing her lips to his.  She’d never been this forward, never been the one to instigate it.  But dammit, she missed his touch, the simple feel of his body brushing up against hers, after denying him all afternoon.  She _needed_ him right now, needed him to help her forget the day, forget Snow, forget her injury, forget the worries of Prim that kept entering her mind.  All she wanted to do was forget, and immerse herself in something she didn’t have to worry about.

She slid her hands from his collar, around his throat to the nape of his neck, fingers clutching at the ends of his hair.  She pulled him closer, swallowing her own gasp when his hips nudged against hers, when her breasts flattened against his chest.  She could feel the warmth through their layers of clothing, emanating from the both of them.  Katniss felt his hands land on her waist, fingers clenching once, twice, before they slid over the curve of her hips to land on the small of her back.  Her tongue fought with his, a clashing of lips and teeth, of heated breath that skimmed over skin.  Her stomach dipped, and craved, her entire body enveloped in a sudden and aching need for him, to feel his skin under her hands, to feel his heart beat against hers.

Extracting her arms from around his neck, she quickly moved her hands from his neck to his belt buckle, fingers fumbling with the loop.  And stumbled back, surprised, when he pulled away abruptly, moving around her and into the small lounge that was in her suite.  She followed him, eyes narrowed in confusion, heart pounding and need coursing through her.  “Are you ok?” she asked.

He sat on the edge of the seat, resting his elbows on his knees, before glancing up to study her.  “Are you sure you want _me_ here tonight?  Or just someone?  Anyone, to keep you company after today?”

Katniss’ mouth dropped open in surprise.  “What?  What are you trying to say?  What brought this on?”

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face, through his hair.  “You’ve hardly talked to me all day Katniss, even when I tried to get you to.  I’m sorry if I pushed you into that lunch, though I know you were as curious as I was.  But you hardly talked to me about it afterwards.  I was by your side all day, but it felt like I was alone.  You wouldn’t even hold my damned hand. And now you’re trying to get me naked?” 

“I….I’m sorry,” Katniss stammered, “I didn’t think….I just….I didn’t…” she trailed off, unsure what to say.

Peeta took a deep breath, his blue eyes looking at her intently.  “Shit, Katniss, some days I feel like we take one step forward and two steps back.  Things have been going so well.  On the train yesterday; dammit, it took everything in me to hold back to not take you right there and then.  But I did, because I know it wasn’t the right time or the right place.  I’m not one to rush things, Katniss, and I’m not going to start now.  We’ve kept ourselves at arms length for months now.  And I get it. You’ve gone through a lot, and you don’t want to rush it.  That’s fine.  But don’t come to me tonight, when you don’t even know it’s something you want.”

Katniss continued to stare at him, her arms hanging limply by her side.  This wasn’t what she was expecting, wasn’t what she thought he would do. 

“But….Of course I…. _want_ you, Peeta.  But-”

“There shouldn’t be any ‘but’, Katniss,” he said softly, looking down at the ground.  “I have serious feelings for you, and I don’t want them sullied by you showing me affection because you just don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” she argued.  “Do you see anyone else here?  I told you you’re the only person I want here with me right now.”

“No, I don’t see anyone else here,” Peeta agreed.  “But when we’re _together_ together, I want it to be because you want to, not because you want to forget something else.”

She glared down at him, wondering how things had managed to change so quickly, so soon.  One minute she’d wanted to rip his clothes off, the next….  “I haven’t been…. _dating_ you all this time for the hell of it, Peeta,” she told him emphatically.

“I know that,” Peeta replied.  “And things have been fine.  We’ve both been happy with how things have been going.  We both went through a lot on that plane, remember, not just you.  I think we’ve both been treading carefully for the sake of each other.  Does that mean I haven’t wanted you all this time?  Hell no.” He fell silent, fingers lacing and unlacing together.  She wanted to say something, _anything_ , but didn’t know what.  “Katniss, there are some nights I can’t sleep thinking about how you would feel under me, over me, _around_ me.  I told you yesterday, when we’re alone and it’s just me and you, it’s going to happen.  But right now, there are too many other people in your head for you to be fully mine tonight.”

“Like who?” she snapped.  She couldn’t help it.  Not when he was saying things she didn’t even know she’d needed to hear, but was pushing her away at the same time.

“Snow, for one.  Don’t think for a minute I wasn’t creeped out by him as much as you were.  Your sister?  I know you haven’t stopped thinking about her since the minute he started talking about the hospital and funding.  He’s an asshole, Katniss.  I’ve had a lot of time to think today, and I’m pretty damn certain he knows the information we have.  How, I don’t know.  And I don’t care.  He was just saying those things to toy with you.”

“To toy with me?” Katniss asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Do you really think the minute we release those documents, he’s going to find the time to pull funding to that hospital?  No.  He’s going to be too busy trying to clean up the mess we created for him.  The last thing his company would do would stop charitable funding, not when they’re trying to save face.  He’s just saying it to scare you, Katniss.  To scare you off from doing the right thing.”

“Then he’s crazy.”

“Yeah, he is.  So don’t let him worry you.  You don’t need to.”

“That’s all well and good for you to say.  He’s not threatening your family at every turn.”

He rolled his eyes; he couldn’t help it.  “Katniss, what don’t you understand?  He knows by getting to you, he’s getting to me.  Just…don’t let him get to you.  It’s what he wants.”

Katniss threw her hands up in frustration, all desire she’d had completely banked.  “Well, I can’t help it sometimes.  We were in a plane crash that may have been able to be prevented.  By _him_ and his company.  But they chose not to.  So of course he’s going to get to me.”

Peeta nodded. “Yes, we were in a plane crash.  But we survived.  You know, anything can happen at any time, Katniss.  We could have been fine, the flight could have not had any problems at all.  We can’t predict that, no one can.  Yes, it was an awful thing to happen, but none of us can change it.  It gives you nightmares, hell, it gives _me_ nightmares.  I’m damn sure it gives Prim nightmares too.  But you know what?  I don’t care about any of that, because whatever happened, that flight brought me to you.  The minute we got on that plane, the minute we started talking about that flight attendant, I knew there was something there.”

She couldn’t argue with what he was saying.  Everything he said made sense, and she knew, deep down, she agreed with him.  But everything inside her screamed to be defensive, to argue with him.

She didn’t even know why.

Katniss snorted, shaking her head.  “What, from a few flirty conversations?”

“Yes, from a few ‘flirty’ conversations,” Peeta countered.  “Do you think I have a connection like that with every person I sit next to on a plane?  Do _you_ have that kind of connection?”

“I rarely have any connections at all,” Katniss replied.

“Exactly.  So don’t you think that means something?”

“I don’t know. So yeah, we had a connection at first.  But how the hell do I even know if we’d be together if that plane landed?  What if we’re only together because of the crash?  If that plane had had no issues and we walked off on our merry way, would we be here right now?”

Peeta’s eyes narrowed.  “What exactly are you trying to say?” he asked.

“I’m saying for all I know this could be bullshit.  What if, in a years’ time, when the crash is just a memory, we have nothing in common?”  Her voice rose, louder and louder, until she was yelling.  She didn’t even know what she was saying any more, what she was even thinking.  None of it was making any sense. “What if, when it all comes down to it, we just don’t end up giving a shit about each other?!  That we’re nothing but a by-product of Capitol screwing around with peoples’ lives?!  What if we hate each other?!  What if we just don’t _care?_ ” 

The words spilled forth, and her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide in horror. _What the hell had she just said_? She hadn’t even known the worries were there, eating away at her, until she’d all but thrown them in his face.

Peeta’s eyes registered hurt first, then a blinding fury that surprised her with its intensity. The voice that she was used to, the one that was so good at easing her fears, was laced with unconcealed bitterness as he gritted out a reply.

“Well then, why don’t you tell me how you _really_ feel, Katniss?”  She could see the muscles in his jaw flexing and shifting with frustration and anger as he rose to his feet. 

“You can’t tell me you’ve never thought about that,” she asked.

“No, I haven’t.” His answer was short, clipped.  “But obviously you have.”

She faltered, realising that _no_ , she hadn’t.  Not until now.  But she couldn’t stop herself, no matter how bad she felt, how hurt he seemed to be.  She’d just planted the seed in her own head.  _What if she was right?_

“I just want to know your answer,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest.  “Well?”

"Well what?" he snapped.

"I want to know what you think. Are we only together because of that crash?"

“We met _on the plane_ ,” he bit out.

“I know we met on the plane, Peeta.  But what if we didn’t go through all that shit together?  What if that’s the only reason we _are_?”She knew she was baiting him, knew she was goading him on.  But she couldn’t stop herself, even if she tried.  “What if the plane _hadn’t_ crashed?  Would. We. Be. Here. Right. Now?”

"I DON'T KNOW!" He yelled, hands fisted by his sides, eyes bright with frustration, anger. “I DON’T FUCKING KNOW!”

Her jaw dropped. How could he NOT know? He always knew. And even if he didn't know the answer, there was always something he could say that made her feel better, less confused.

Except for now, it seemed.

She curled her lip, wanting anything but to continue their fight. But she couldn't help herself. "Well that's a hard answer to question you on, isn't it? _'I don't know'_ ," she finished sarcastically.

He threw up his hands in frustration.  "I don't even know why you feel you would have to 'question' me on this!  And I can't give you anything better than that because I _don’t_ know," Peeta retorted through clenched teeth. "I’d like to think so, but I can't predict the future, Katniss.  This is real life, not a fucking choose your own adventure book where you can turn back the page and change your damned mind, or see what the other option could have been.  So, no, I can't answer your question. And even if I could, I wouldn't. Because it's an insult, to you, to me, to whatever _this_ was." His eyes burned into her, and he shook his head. "I don't need to put up with this shit. I put myself out there for you, to try and make sure you don’t do something I’m worried you’ll regret doing tomorrow, and what do I get? A proverbial slap in the face. Questioning the validity of my feelings for you.”  He turned his back on her, grabbing the room key and wallet he'd tossed on the side table.  “You know where to find me, Katniss. For now, just leave me the hell alone."  With one last glare, he stormed from the room - all she heard was the echo of her hotel room door being slammed.

She couldn’t move, her feet frozen and her mind blank.  Her mouth hung open, her breathing coming fast, sharp and shallow.  She heard his room door open across the hall, then slam closed, so hard she could almost swear her own door shuddered.  She heard a thud, then quiet, nothing but the trickle of rain down the windowpane.

More than she ever had before, she felt alone.  And she knew it was her fault.


	12. Chapter 12

Katniss stared out of the train window, watching the landscape rush by.  Travelling during the day gave her the opportunity to see everything she’d missed as they’d travelled by night to New York, but it could have been a blank canvas right now for all she knew or cared.

Peeta wasn’t on the train.

She’d woken that morning after finally drifting off just as the first edges of dawn crept into the sky, to a sharp but efficient knock on her door.  Leaping out of bed, expecting it to be Peeta, she’d flung it open to find the hallway empty.  It wasn’t until she’d stepped back to close the door again, mumbling to herself about shitty kids being stupid in hotels, that she’d noticed the envelope that had been slipped under the door, and had reached to retrieve it.

_Miss Everdeen, Miss Trinket,_

_Mr Mellark gives his apologies, and wishes for us to advise you that he has had to return home early to Panem due to an emergency in the bakery.  He is sorry for an inconvenience his abrupt departure has caused._

_Regards,_

_A. Vauxhall_

_Concierge_

Katniss’ heart had dropped.  They’d meant to be here another day, to do more sightseeing together before catching the train back the following morning.  But Peeta had put a stop to that by returning to Panem early.

Reality, hard and fast and sudden, hit her like a weight.  There was no emergency.  _It was because of her._

She’d turned her words over and over in her head during the night, had wiped tears from her cheeks when she remembered the look on his face as she’d spouted words at him she knew – even then – she hadn’t meant.  She’d moved to the door a dozen times, her hand on the doorknob, ready to turn it and walk across the hall.  But each time, she’d stopped herself.  She didn’t know what to say, and she wasn’t sure Peeta would have wanted to listen to her anyway.  So she’d lain in bed, waiting for sunrise, and the hope that they could sort things out.  It seemed Peeta had had a different idea.

Throwing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on, she’d trudged down the hallway to Effie’s room, slipped the letter under her door, then had gone back and packed.  If Peeta was no longer here, there really wasn’t a point in her staying any longer.  So she’d called the booking office, changed her ticket to the next available train to Panem, left a message for Effie and had caught a cab to Grand Central.  All the while her head aching and her body filled with dread.

She’d shot off a text to Prim, telling her she was coming home early, then turned her phone off.  She knew she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to speak to anyone.  At all.

The comfort she’d felt in the private room on her way to New York was lost on her this trip.  Everything made her shift, made her twitch, made her get up and pace the small floor space of the room.  She couldn’t get Peeta’s words out of her head.

_“This is real life, not a fucking choose your own adventure book where you can turn back the page and change your damned mind.”_

_“You know where to find me, Katniss. For now, just leave me the hell alone."_

And the worst.  The words that made her wonder if there was any coming back from their fight.

_“Because it's an insult, to you, to me, to whatever this was."_

Peeta had already put them into past tense, and her heart cracked like a fissure had broken through it.

With a sigh Katniss reached into her bag, pulling out the papers she’d taken from Peeta.  They’d split them on the first train ride, and she really had nothing else to do on the trip home.  She vaguely wondered whether their fight would affect the plan to expose Capitol, but she supposed she could always return the papers to him and let him do it.  After all, it had been Haymitch who’d done all the grunt work finding the papers on their behalf, so it was only fair that he and Peeta got to do so.  It would be easy enough to give the papers to Annie or Finnick to give back to him.  Go back to not visiting the bakery.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t avoided it before.

But it didn’t mean she couldn’t at least continue to look through the paperwork, do some prep work for it.  It was the least she could do.

********

The week passed in a blur.  Days were spent working, nights attempting to sleep.  She refused to explain to Prim what had happened, only that she and Peeta had ended things.  The look of sadness and pity on Prim’s face as she’d looked down at Katniss, curled up on her bed the day she’d returned, almost had her wavering, but she’d stood firm.  There was no point in rehashing something she’d managed to kill on her own.

Her dreams returned full force. Smoke filled passageways, piercing screams, an all-encompassing darkness. In them the scent of blood would overwhelm her, and she would wake with the metallic taste of it on her tongue. She’d feel it on her hands, sticky and wet and staining them red and pink.

And in those hazy moments between wake and sleep, her heart pounded, trying to remember if Peeta was alive or dead. For in her dreams, it was his blood on her hands.  And she wasn’t sure she’d felt that broken since her parents had died.

She would scramble for her phone at those times, pulling it from her nightstand, frantically scrolling through her contacts until she found his name.  But she would stop herself before pressing the button, before she dialled just to make sure he was alive.  What would she say?  _“Hi, just making sure you’re not dead?”_

She didn’t need to wake him with her issues.

Her specialist appointment came and went, and with it a confirmation she would need the surgery she’d hoped to avoid.  She was resigned to it, and at least she didn’t have the added worry of covering the bills.  It had been booked for the following Wednesday, and she spent most of the afternoon after her appointment completing the paperwork it would take for Capitol to cover the payments.  She was glad it was going to happen soon – she really didn’t want to drag it out for much longer than it needed to be.  The paperwork was burning a hole in her bag, waiting to be released, and she had Peeta had agreed that if she required surgery, it would happen afterwards.  She still hadn’t spoken to Annie or Finnick about it.

Speaking about them meant thinking about Peeta.  And in the light of day, her dreams a memory from hours before, she didn’t want to.  It hurt too much to even consider.

********

The papers were tucked securely in the satchel she clutched on her lap.  She wished Annie had taken them, but her friend had refused, with a simple shake of her head and a quiet word that it wasn’t anything to do with her.  As much as she was reluctant to admit it, she knew Annie was right.  It wasn’t Katniss’ place to involve her in this, even in the smallest way.  So instead, she was waiting in her car, watching the front door of the bakery in her rear view mirror, waiting for Peeta to leave.  Annie had told her he had a meeting off-site with a rep that afternoon, and that Finnick and Haymitch would be the only two in the bakery.

A movement at the door caught her eye, and her throat constricted and her heart thudded as she saw him walk out.  She hadn’t seen him in days, and the depth of how much she missed him astounded her.  All she needed to do, she knew, was to swallow her pride and go to him, tell him she was an idiot, that he should forget everything she’d thrown at him.  But she couldn’t.

She was terrified he’d already thrown _them_ away.

Katniss watched Peeta climb into his car, and when she was certain he had driven far enough away, hopped out of her car, bag held tightly in her fist.  She locked the car, her footsteps hurried and quick as she made her way to the front door.

The bell hanging over the entrance chimed happily – a stark contrast to how she felt – and she saw Finnick’s sympathetic smile directed towards her as he helped a customer.  He already knew what she was here for, and he tipped his head towards the kitchen.  She nodded, thankful that it was Finnick, and that he knew better than to try and engage her in conversation. 

Taking a deep breath, she moved over to the door, peering through the small porthole into the kitchen, watching as Haymitch lounged on a stool, ledgers and papers strew across the bench in front of him.  She swung the door open quietly, stopping for a moment as Haymitch’s eyes lifted to lock with hers, before stepping inside.

“Well,” he grunted, straightening as best as he could.  “Didn’t expect to see you around here any time soon.” 

“Neither did I,” Katniss replied quietly.  “If you’re busy I can come back.”

Haymitch shrugged, glancing back down at the papers in front of him.  “It’s just the accounts.  Until Peeta’s little payday from the Capitol clears, things are going to keep being tight.  They can wait.  I wanted to speak to you anyway.”

Katniss moved forward, standing across the bench from him.  “Don’t you have an office you can do these in?”

“Yes.”  He stared at her, almost daring her to ask him why he wasn’t using it, but she didn’t care enough to ask him.  She dumped the bag on the benchtop, opening it and pulling the papers out.

“I thought I would return these to you.  I’ve got some notes in there from reading through them, but I thought it made sense for you and Peeta to release them, not me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it make sense for Peeta and I to do it?  You pulling yourself out of the game, sweetheart?  Getting out before the going gets tough?”

Katniss glowered at him, crossing her arms in front of her.  “No.  I’m pretty sure you know Peeta and I broke up.  You did the work finding this information out, it makes sense for you to have it.”

“And it quite neatly pulls you and Blondie out of harms way, is that it?” The scorn she heard in his voice was real, and it seemed he had no intention of hiding it. “Peeta told me you had a catch up with that Snow asshole, and his little private dig at you.”

Katniss shook her head.  “I don’t care about that.  Peeta was right.  When this gets out, Snow will be too busy trying to clean up after himself to worry about pulling funding from that hospital, or doing anything against me or Prim or Peeta.  Or anyone.  I just thought it was fair that it came back to you.”

“Fair?” Haymitch snorted, pushing back from the bench and rising to his feet, moving over to the dry store before remembering Peeta had confiscated his secret stash.  He swore, not quite under his breath then rounded back to Katniss.  “You know what’s fair?  Giving that boy a go, and not throwing your shit in his face every chance you get.”

Katniss blinked in surprise.  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She demanded.

“He mentioned your fight,” he told her, and she could feel the flush rise on her cheeks.  “That boy has done nothing but support you the last few months, and at the first sign of trouble, you round on him.  He deserves better than that, a hell of a lot better than that.  Do you know what that’s done to him the last few days?”

“No.”

“He won’t do anything but work.  And when he’s not at work, he hides himself at home, doing who the hell knows what.  He refuses to talk about it anymore.  Hell, he even rounded on Finnick the other day when he brought you up.  You hurt him with your words, sweetheart, and now you’re hurting him with your silence.”

“He hurt me too,” she snapped back, the knowledge that his week seemed to echo hers so clearly cutting her to the bone.  “He won’t speak to me either, and he just _left_ me there.  He put…..he put…he put us in past tense.” Her final words were quiet, almost to the point of silence, and she heard Haymitch’s loud exhalation of breath.

“Shit, you’re just as bad as each other.  What’s this ‘past tense’ crap?”

Katniss leant forward, resting her elbows on the bench and dropping her head into them.  “He was talking about us, and he said “whatever this was”.  _Was_ , Haymitch.  He disregarded us in a matter of moments.”

“Did you give him reason to disregard you?” he asked, crossing his arms across his chest, wishing desperately that it was 6pm, and he was at home with a drink, not giving the girl bloody relationship advice, of all things.

Katniss sighed, peering up at him.  “Yeah.  Yeah I guess I did.  I questioned him on whether we’d be together if it weren’t for the crash, and he didn’t like it.  But I suppose you know about that already, if he told you about the fight.”

“He didn’t give me all the specifics of what was said,” Haymitch replied.  “But that’s a shit of a thing to ask.”

“I know,” she admitted.  “But I couldn’t help it.  I still don’t really know why I asked him.  It just…came out.”

Haymitch studied her – the slumped shoulders, the dark, sunken cheeks, eyes that were red-rimmed, hair that didn’t look like it had met a hairbrush in days.  And he took pity on a girl who seemed just as heartbroken as the boy he had to see every day.

“You know you need to apologise,” he told her bluntly.  Nice words weren’t going to do it for her.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“And he has to apologise too.”

“He does?”  Her eyes widened.  “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter that you started it,” he grumbled.  “He’s made you feel just as bad, and he probably knows it too.  But you’re going to have to go to him, sweetheart.”

She sighed.  “Is there a point, though?  Are we done?  Are we over?”

Haymitch shrugged.  “I can’t answer that, only he can.”  He moved to her, shoving the papers back in her bag at random.  “You need these.  It’s up to you and Peeta to do this, not me.  He has tomorrow off.  Go to his place.  And work your shit out, please.  I can’t put up with his moping for much longer.”

Katniss looked up at him, then reached out and covered his hand with hers.  It was a little awkward – two people not entirely comfortable with the touch of another – but it got across what she needed to.

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

He nodded, then plopped back down on the stool.  “Ok, ok.  Now go.  I need to sort these damned books out.”

With a small smile, she moved back out of the kitchen, shot a quick wave towards Finnick, and went back out to her car.  She had until tomorrow to figure out what to say.

********

“Katniss?  You home?”  The front door slammed, the heavy thud of Prim’s bag hitting the kitchen table following close behind. 

Katniss scrubbed her face with her hands, clearing her throat before she responded.  “Up here, Prim,” she called, listening to the sound of Prim’s footsteps on the stairs.  She glanced over in time to see Prim come through the door of her office.  Prim smiled softly, moving over to the window seat that Katniss had curled up on.  She sat across from her, pulling her legs up to her chest.

“You ok?” Prim asked.  “It’s the first time I’ve seen you not in your bed or at your desk this week.”

Katniss shrugged. “I went to the specialist yesterday.”

Prim rolled her eyes, reaching up to pull the tie from her hair, releasing the summery blonde strands from its tightly woven braid. “Yeah, ok, and other than then.”

“I went to the bakery today.”  Katniss turned back to the window, staring down to the gardens below.

“Oh?  And how did that go?” Prim asked softly, tracing her finger along the seam of the seat cushion.  “And don’t just say fine.”

“It went…ok,” Katniss replied, and watched the grin tug at the corner of Prim’s lips.  “Peeta wasn’t there.”

Prim’s eyebrows drew together.  “Why did you go then?”

“Because….because….” Katniss trailed off before glancing at her sister.  She still hadn’t told Prim about what Haymitch – and ultimately she and Peeta – had found out about the airline.  She’d decided early on that the best way for her to protect Prim throughout this was to not tell her.  At least, not until it was out in the open.  “I needed to return something that belonged to Peeta.  And seeing as we’re not together anymore…”

“Aren’t you?” Prim asked.  She raised an eyebrow at Katniss’ questioning look.  “You’ve not told me anything, Katniss, other than you’ve broken up.  But have you really?  What happened?”

“We had a fight.”

“A fight doesn’t equal a break-up Kat.”

“We haven’t spoken since it happened.”

“That doesn’t equal a break-up, either,” Prim sighed, reaching out and placing her hands on Katniss’ shin.  “Have you tried to speak to him?”

“No.”

“Then there you go.”

“He hasn’t tried to speak to me either,” Katniss countered, glaring at Prim.

Prim shrugged, pulling her hands back and folding her arms across her chest.  “Is there a reason either of you haven’t?  I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.”

Katniss sighed, dropping her head in her hands before beginning to explain their fight.  She heard Prim shifting on the seat, a faint sigh here and there, but Katniss didn’t look up at her.  She didn’t want to see the exasperation she knew would be on her face.

“And so I went to return Peeta’s things and Haymitch was there.  He pretty much told me to pull my head in and go and sort things out with Peeta,” Katniss finished. 

“Are you going to take his advice?” Prim asked softly.

“Yeah.  Yeah I am.  Even if we are done…..I can’t leave it that way.  I understand if he doesn’t want to be with me, but I don’t want it to end badly between us.”

Prim unfurled her legs, folding them indian-style, and brought her hands to rest under her chin, resting her elbows on her knees.

“Kat, can I say something?”  Katniss nodded, and Prim forged on before her sister could change her mind.  She took a deep breath.  “I thought you would have realised by now how much Peeta is in love with you.”

“What?” Katniss’ jaw dropped.

“Peeta.  He’s in love with you. He’s not _falling for you_ or whatever.  He’s _in love_ with you.  It’s obvious to everyone else around you.  It was obvious on national television, even though he never uttered the actual words.”

Katniss scrambled to think back to what he’d said during their interview with Caesar, their discussion afterwards, trying to understand where Prim was getting this idea from.

_“What if I told you I was falling for you?  Not just attracted to you, but seriously falling for you?”_

_“This isn’t ‘casually dating’ for me, Katniss.  This is me….looking for a serious relationship with you.”_

“He never mentioned anything about love,” Katniss whispered, her heart pounding terror, fear, happiness…..she wasn’t even sure.

“He didn’t have to.  He shows it in everything he says, the way he protects you, the way he looks at you.  And with this fight, even if you didn’t mean to hurt him, Katniss, you did by questioning that.  Because what he feels for you is very, very real.  And I think what you feel for him is very real too.”

“What?” Katniss repeated, still dumbfounded.

Prim sighed.  “Really?  You’re going to deny it?  After everything you’ve gone through, after doing these interviews with him?  You know you love him too.  You’re just scared.  Worried about loving someone else, and having them taken away some day.”  Prim’s eyes filled with sympathy as Katniss’ widened in surprise.  “Kat, I lost mom and dad too.  But just because we lost them doesn’t mean we’ll lose everyone else we love.  We still have each other, don’t we?” She paused, glancing down at the gardens that she maintained more out of memory for her parents than for a love of gardening.  “I remember a few short months ago, we had a conversation at the hospital.  And I told you not to be your own worst enemy.  Don’t throw this away.  And although I don’t absolve Peeta for his part in this fight – because dammit, no-one yells at my sister, storms off _and_ gets away with it – you have to go to him.  He knows that too.  Because although you wouldn’t want to admit it, he _understands you_.  And he knows that you would need to make the first step.  So for god’s sake, Kat, make it.  I’m with Haymitch, of the impeccable bedside and customer service manner.  You need to sort this out.”

Katniss studied her sister, wondering where this young woman with such a good head on her shoulders had come from. “You’re so sure of all of this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Prim replied firmly.

“How do _you_ know I love Peeta when I’m not even sure?  I’m not even sure I’d have the words to describe what I feel.”

“You’re not very good with words, Kat,” Prim reminded her.  “Your actions speak far louder than words ever could.”

Katniss shook her head.  How had this conversation turned to this?  How did her baby sister know how she felt when _she herself_ didn’t even know?  She sighed. “When did you grow up, Little Duck?” she asked softly. 

Prim smiled.  “I’ve been grown up for a while now.  It just took you a little longer to notice.”

********

Katniss worried her bottom lip between her teeth, staring at the front door.  Her car had been parked in Peeta’s driveway for ten minutes already, though she hadn’t gotten up the courage to step out of it yet.  Surely he’d know by now that she was there.  He would have heard the rumble of her old cars’ engine a mile away.

Inhaling deeply, she clutched the handle of the door, pushing it open and setting her feet on the concrete below. Every move felt like it required too much effort, like she had a ton of weight bearing down on her.

She closed the door, looping the long handle of her bag of her shoulder, and moved towards the front porch entry.  She reached up, knocking on the glossy wood, realising too late that she did the terminator knock, and hoped she didn’t think she was being blasé about their whole fight.

Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited.  And waited.  The longer she waited, the faster her heart raced, the more she was worried he wasn’t home or – worse – he was ignoring her.  She was going to give it 2 more minutes and then-

The door was suddenly yanked open, and there he was.  Blonde curls unruly, blue eyes a little surprised, hands covered in flour.  He was wearing the green shirt he’d worn the night they’d had dinner in the small flat off the bakery, and it still looked just as good on him.  Possibly even better.

And in that moment, mouth dry and heart pounding, she knew Prim had been right.  Even though she’d asked him for time, had been adamant they were only dating, she couldn’t deny it.

She loved Peeta Mellark.  And it terrified her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and your comments and kudos, they're very much appreciated.
> 
> This story is coming to a close - one or two chapters left - so we're almost at the end!


	13. Chapter 13

Katniss tried to clear her throat, tried to form some semblance of a sentence.  But it stuck on her tongue, and in the end all she could manage was a simple ‘hello’.  Now that she’d realised she loved him, how could she seriously _talk_ to him?  Especially if they were over.   _Oh god, could they really be over?_

She’d fought long and hard with herself during the night over whether seeing him was the right thing to do.  He’d turned away from her – _run_ away – and had all but left her alone and unknowing.  But, ultimately, she knew she had to swallow her fears and her nerves, and at least set out to do what she’d told Prim she wanted to do – end things on friendly terms.

Peeta stared at her, and pulled a bright red dishcloth from the back pocket of his jeans, beginning to wipe the flour from them. “Hi,” he replied.

“I, um…..how are you?” Katniss stumbled over her words.

“Fine.” His response was short, sharp, free from the smooth friendliness she was used to.

“Uh, do you mind if I come in?” She hated that she sounded so wounded, so _weak_.  But dammit, she was hurting, and his obvious indifference was making it all the worse.  He glanced behind him, then looked back at her, and her cheeks coloured while the blood drained from her head.  “Oh.  Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t realise you had someone here.”  She stepped back, eyes wide, ready to make a dash for it.   _He has someone here.  Is it another girl? Has he met someone already??_

“No, no,” Peeta replied, waving his hands out in front of him.  He ran the towel through his hands nervously.  “Of course you can come in. I, uh, just heard the timer go off on the oven.  I’ve been…baking  a lot the last few days.”  He stepped back, opening the door wider to give her the room to move inside.  She did so hesitantly, gripping onto her bag as if it were a lifeline. She studied the cozy living room that she stood in, with its plush chocolate coloured couch and an inviting matching recliner grouped around a large screen tv, with a glossy hutch tucked into the corner, topped with a jumble of knick knacks that she was desperate to go and look at but hesitant to do so.

He closed the door behind her, then cleared his throat.  “If you want to just come through there, to the kitchen.  I have to check on the buns.”  She nodded, and followed him down a short hallway that opened up into a large kitchen and sunroom.  She couldn’t blame him, really, for wanting to spend so much time in this room baking.  The bench tops were a smooth off-white marble, the cupboards a warm honey wood.  Copper pots hung over an island in the middle of the kitchen, which was covered in numerous bowls and utensils, and a container filled with the flour that had partially coated Peeta’s hands.  Various sized pots of herbs graced the windowsill, while wide French doors led out to a small patio, and an immaculately presented garden.  She couldn’t help turning to him with a raised eyebrow, her nerves momentarily subsiding, and he shrugged.

“The gardens were like that when I got here.  I have to get someone to come and look after them, because I definitely don’t have a green thumb.”  He moved towards the oven, opening and peering in the door before turning the oven off.  He carefully slid the tray of perfectly golden buns from the oven, closing the door and setting the tray on a cooling rack before facing her.  “Uh, so what can I do for you, Katniss?”

She opened her mouth, and closed it again, before dropping her bag on the counter.  It was her security blanket, and she wouldn’t get anywhere if she continued to clutch it.  “I wanted….I wanted to say sorry.”

“Sorry?”

She reached for the end of her braid nervously before she remembered she’d left her hair unbound, and her arm fell back listlessly to her side.  “For what I said to you.  In New York.  I shouldn’t have.  I shouldn’t have questioned you.  I had no right to especially after all you’ve done for me.  And I’m sorry I made you feel bad.”

“Ok then.  Thanks.”

Katniss blinked in surprise.  “Is that all you have to say?  I apologise, and I get a ‘thanks’?”

He shrugged, throwing the dishcloth on the bench beside her bag before leaning back against it. “I guess so.  I mean, I don’t know what else you want me to say.  I appreciate you saying sorry.”

Her jaw dropped, and she folded her arms across her chest.  She felt the frustration bubble up inside her, ignoring the stab at her heart that someone she had just discovered she loved was ready to brush her aside.  “Why the hell are you talking to me like I’m a stranger?  How about saying sorry yourself?  Yeah, I was a bitch and said some things I shouldn’t have said to you.  But you left me in New York, Peeta.   _You left me._ Who the hell does that?  We needed to talk, and you just _left_.”

He had the grace to look shamefaced, and he glanced down to the floor before looking back up at her, his hands gripping the edge of the counter.  “I didn’t leave you alone.  Effie was still there.”

“I wasn’t there with Effie,” she hissed.  “I was there with you.  And then you use the _bakery_ as your excuse to leave?  There was no emergency, Peeta.  You think I’m that dumb that I wouldn’t know the reason you left was because of me?  That I couldn’t just check with my _friends_ to see if anything had really happened?”

The heat rose on Peeta’s face, turning it a shade of red she hadn’t seen on him before.  “I don’t think you’re dumb, Katniss.  At all.  But fine.  Yes, I left because of you.  Because you fucking hurt my feelings.  What you said hurt.  So yeah.  I left because of our fight.”

She threw her hands up in frustration.  “And you didn’t think you leaving me would hurt _my_ feelings?”

He shrugged, and he glanced away before she could catch the look in his eyes.  “I didn’t think.”

“No, obviously you didn’t,” she snapped.  

Peeta glared back at her.  She didn’t know if it was her imagination or simply the down lights that made his eyes look glassy.   “Well, what do you want from me?”

“I want an apology, Peeta.  It’s only fair.”

“Sorry.”

She laughed mirthlessly.  “Really?  That’s it? _That’s_ my apology?” She fisted a hand in the length of her hair, trying to keep herself together.   _How could she keep herself together when she felt like she was falling apart?_  “You know what, fine.  I came here wanting to apologise, to sort things out so we could at least be friends.  No surprise that this is going to end like the few other times I’ve tried to date.”  She turned to reach for her bag when Peeta’s hand shot out, planting itself on the bag and holding it to the counter.  She whirled to face him, eyes bitter.  “What?”

“Don’t categorise me with those other guys,” he said, his jaw tight with tension.

“Why not?  This is ending _exactly_ like all the others.  Except, this time, I actually give a shit.  I care that we’re over.  Obviously what I said to you, hurt you so much that _you_ don’t care.  That you’re happy for this to be done.”

“You really think I don’t care?  You think we’re over?” he asked softly.  She wasn’t sure what the hell his tone meant.

“We haven’t spoken in a week,” Katniss retorted.

“And that means we’re done?”

“It’s a pretty good indicator.”

Peeta shook his head.  “You’re far from close, Katniss.  I’m not going to let us go that easily.”

“Then stop being an asshole!” she cried.  “We’ve both hurt each other this last week, whether we meant to or not. At least I'm trying to fix it.”  She yanked the bag free from his grasp and stalked back out of the kitchen towards the front door.

“Don’t walk away from me, Katniss,” she heard him call from behind her.

“Just watch me!” She retorted.   _Screw this_ , she thought.   _Screw extending the olive branch.  He can have his damned cake or buns or whatever, and eat it too_.  She yanked on the handle of the front door, scrabbling at the lock before it turned, and started to pull the door open.  It slammed closed again, with the flat of Peeta’s hand against it.  She stared at it in surprise, the creamy skin marred with a smattering of small burn scars that looked fresh.

“Don’t leave.” His voice was strangled and she slowly turned to face him.  “Don’t make my mistake.”

Katniss stared up at him, his blue eyes burning, his lip caught up between his teeth, the muscle in his jaw tensing and flexing.  “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because….because…” he trailed off, pulling his hand away from the door and plunging it into her hair, twisting his fingers in the strands.  He drew his face close to hers.  “Because we’re _nowhere_ near finished, Katniss Everdeen.”  

“Oh really-” she started, but she was cut off as Peeta’s fingers tightened and his lips landed on hers, hot and angry and rough, as if everything he’d felt in the last week was being poured into the kiss.  

Her hands reached out almost involuntarily, grasping at the collar of his shirt, pulling him close and taking a step back so that she thudded against the door.  Her mouth fought with his, a tangle of teeth and tongues, while fingers clenched at skin, and at the clothes that stood in their way.  It wasn’t like any other kiss they’d shared before, where it had started out sweet, or searching, and had built until her fingers had been numb and her entire body yearned for more.

No, right now everything inside her, outside her, _around_ her was on fire, and she wondered how she was ever going to let him go.   _Nothing like a kiss that would make her die inside before they said goodbye_.

She drew back, gasping for air, watching as his eyes darkened and flashed, as he exhaled heavily. “What…what did you do that for?” she breathed.  “A kiss goodbye?  Something to remember you by?”

He made a keening sound and shook his head forcefully.  His eyes took on the glassy look she’d seen in them earlier, and she realised it had nothing to do with the lights.  “I kissed you because I’m not going to let you go, Katniss,” Peeta replied, and her heart skipped.  He raised his other hand, cupping her cheek gently, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip.  “I _can’t_ let you go.  Ever.  I’m sorry.  For everything.  I’m sorry I didn’t think until after I got on the train what a dick I was being.  I’m sorry I didn’t call you this week, when I swear I picked up the phone a hundred times, wanting to hear your voice, to make things right.  I’m sorry I hung up each time before I could press that final number, wondering if you’d even want to hear from me anyway.  I’m sorry that I turned on you, when you needed me. I’m sorry that I made you think we were over.  I’m sorry I was being such an asshole before.  I’m so-”

She raised a finger to his lips, cutting his words off.  If he spoke any longer, she wasn’t sure she could keep herself together.  Everything inside her body burned and snapped and sizzled and yearned.  “We could stand here and apologise all day Peeta; we’ve both said and done stupid things that’s hurt the other.  We both know it, and forgiveness is a given.  But right now….” She raised her eyes to his, and placed her other hand tentatively on his hip.  “For god’s sake, just kiss me again.”

He took her at her word, pressing his lips to hers without a second thought.  She could feel the weight of his body pinning her against the door, his chest against hers, his thigh lined up along her own, his hips pressing into hers.   She slid her other hand up underneath his shirt and clenched at the muscles of his back, felt them pulse under her touch, felt her own skin shiver in response, from both that and the feel of his mouth against hers.  His hand moved from her cheek, down her shoulder, stroked down her arm with soft fingertips, her skin breaking out in goose bumps from his touch.  He drew her hand away from his hip and twisted his hand with hers, their fingers interlocked, pressing together tightly until they were bloodless and white.  He shifted, just slightly, and the length of him brushed against her; her eyes rolled back into her head at the feel of him, long and hard against her stomach.  She couldn’t help the almost involuntary way her hips jolted against him in return.

“I….” She trailed off again as his lips descended on the corner of her jaw, his teeth nibbling heatedly against the soft skin.

“Don’t talk, Katniss,” he ordered.  “Don’t think.  There’s no-one else here, is there?”

“No.”

“Anyone else you want to think of?”

“No.”

“Good.”  His lips found hers again, hot and fast, untangling his hands from her to slide them down her back, over her hips, cupping her ass and hoisting her up until her legs wrapped around his waist.  The rough denim of his jeans rubbed against the light cotton of the slim pants she was wearing, and she pulled her mouth away, biting her lip to stop the mewls that wanted to fall from her.  He didn’t give her time to catch her breath.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips, dipping in as she opened her mouth, sliding against her own tongue.  She let all thoughts fall from her mind, except for the feel of Peeta against her, the taste of him, the scent of him.  She shifted her head, changing the angle, and his groan rumbled in his chest, echoed through her, and his fingers tensed and flexed, gripping her tighter.  His head dropped, resting in the crook of her neck, lips gently sucking at the sensitive skin just below her ear.  The feeling made her hips jerk against him, her insides twisting at the feel of him pressed up against her.  She rolled against him again, and again, until he pressed her to the door, stopping her movements.

“God, Katniss, you need to stop.  I’m not going to be able to….” He trailed off, panting, though she knew what he was going to say.  She bit her lip, glancing at him through hooded lids as she stilled. “Do you…..do you want to stay?” he asked, his voice low and heavy, his breath blowing against her ear.  “I really want you to stay.  I need you to stay.  Don’t leave.  I won’t leave you.”

She threaded her hands into his hair, twisting the blonde strands through her fingertips, pulling him back until they were face to face.  They stared at each other, molten silver to burning blue, as her heart stuttered while his words sunk in.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, lowering her mouth to his softly.  “I don’t want to be anywhere else but here with you right now.”   He nodded, while his arms banded around her tightly and his eyes flashed again, and then he was moving, quick, hurried steps towards the staircase.  He moved up them as though she barely weighed anything, and if she worried about his leg while he was doing so, every thought was wiped clean as he stepped through an open doorway and pressed her up against the doorframe.

“I’ve wanted you here for weeks,” he muttered, sucking and nipping and laving at her neck.

“We weren’t ready,” she gasped, feet clenching and legs tightening around his waist.  “And then you were an asshole and didn’t call me.”  Her tone was meant to be light, playful, but _god she couldn’t feel anything but pain and pleasure and the overwhelming need to have him inside her and dammit she sounded so snarky and she didn’t mean to._

“You didn’t call me either,” he groaned, pulling his hand around her and cupping her breast.  Her breath stuttered out in a moan as his hand pressed against her, as he kneaded the flesh through too many layers of clothes.  “But it doesn’t matter now.  We’re here.”

“We’re here,” she echoed.  She felt a twist in her belly and a flush rose on her cheeks; she averted her eyes.  “It’s, uh, been awhile for me.”

“Hey, me too,” Peeta replied, his tone forcing her to look at him.  “I haven’t met anyone in long time, and…well….I’ve had my eye on this one girl for ages.”  He nipped at the bottom of her earlobe.  “I want you.”

“I want you.”

Peeta’s grip on her loosened, and she slid to the ground, her legs like jelly.  She moved to the bed before she could fall over, perched herself on the edge and watched him watch her.

And then he was crossing the room, gently pushing her backwards so she was flat on the mattress, her hair spreading out and disappearing against the black of his bedspread.  His body was on hers, fingers twining, hips rolling and shifting, skin sliding against skin, denim pressing against cotton.

Lips found lips, found the edge of a jaw, nibbled along a collarbone, pressed against an eyelid.  Hands found purchase at the edge of a hem, lifting it from skin, over heads; found buttons until they were loosed and pants rolled over hips.  Hurried hands removed each barrier until the cool air of the room was all that stood between them.

She blushed at the look in Peeta’s eye – hungry, territorial, demanding.

“Shit, Katniss, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, eyes moving from head to toe, not lingering but drinking her in whole.  He pulled her to his side, his leg sliding over hers, his gaze voracious as he studied her.

“Shut up,” she muttered.  She wanted to say the same, wanted to tell him how glorious he was as he looked down at her, at the taut skin and shifting muscles, at the way his hair was getting just a little too long but it just made him look even better.  At the way a few days worth of stubble across his jaw made her stomach clench at the thought of it brushing against her cheek or the inside of her thigh.

_Oh god._

But she didn't have the words, so she pulled him back down to her, relishing the feeling of his skin on hers, and kissed him, open-mouthed and forceful and insistent.  She felt him jerk against her thigh, felt the echoing pull in her belly.  His hand moved up to her breast again, warm and wide and strong, brushing his palm against the peak until she stifled a moan with his mouth.  She clutched at his shoulders, fingers digging until she swore she would leave bruises.  She didn’t care.

Peeta moved his mouth from hers, lips pressing along her skin, moving down her throat, across the slope of her breast until his mouth replaced his hand.  He drew her nipple into his mouth, a light grazing of teeth, a laving of his tongue over her.  His mouth was hot, wet, and the pull in her belly, between her thighs, intensified.  His hands travelled over and down her body, pressing and soothing flesh that was heated and needy, tracing patterns against her skin until she was afraid she’d burst, her heart thudding against her chest, her eyes squeezing shut involuntarily and his name stuttering from her lips like a mantra.   _Peeta, Peeta, Peeta_.

Time became irrelevant, and with his hands, and with his mouth, he slowly brought her to peak, her fingers clutching for purchase in the sheets, against his sweat-slicked skin, in the tangles of his hair, her back arching from the mattress as her mind emptied and her body buzzed from head to toe and became weightless.

She lay there, spent, a shuddering mass of nerves and trembling skin and weakened limbs, wondering how the hell she was ever going to move as her heart pounded and her body continued to wrack with the aftershocks of her orgasm.  She felt him hovering over her, until she opened her eyes again and looked up at him, as he licked his lips and clenched his jaw, as she felt the subtle roll of his pelvis against the side of her thigh.  She swallowed heavily, breath coming in fits and starts.

It wasn’t enough.

She knew she startled him with how fast she sat up, how she twisted herself over him, her body shifting over his.  She straddled his torso, hands sliding up his chest, up into his hair, as she lowered her lips to his.  His fingers gripped her hips, moulding to her like a second skin.  Their mouths fought with each other, kisses full of need and want and longing and even anger, of a week spent apart by stubbornness.  She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, drawing it between her teeth, watching as his pupils dilated, feeling his torso clench under her.   She rose up slowly, his eyes following her every move, and she licked her palm, reaching behind her, her fingers wrapping around him tightly; his whole body seemed to rise beneath her. She slid her hand down once, twice, three times, even more slow, measured strokes until he hissed out a breath, and a garble of words.

“What?” she whispered, leaning forward to catch his murmurs.  His hand fell from her hip and pointed towards the bedside drawer.  He could hardly breathe, let alone talk.

_Oh. Of course._

She leant over, his hand sliding down her thigh and calf as she pulled open and reached into the drawer, extracting the silver foil packet.  Rising to her knees, she moved back, tearing the packet open and rolling it over his length.  And, with a murmured sigh and a locking of gazes, she lowered herself onto him.  Her breath hitched as she adjusted to the feel of him inside of her, and she watched as the cords in his neck strained, as his head tipped back and a moan expelled from his lips.

Skin slid against skin as she flattened herself against him wanting to be as close as she could, twisting her hands into his hair, hearing his breath thick and fast against her ear as she moved over him.  She was surrounded by him, encompassed by him, and she knew, without a doubt, he felt the same.  He always had.  It had just taken her a little longer to catch up.

 _As always_.

Breaths became sighs, became moans.  Nerves shook under skin that both skittered and pearled with sweat, tense with longing and need.  Katniss rose again, wanting to watch him as he fell apart, wanting him to watch her as _she_ fell apart.  Time sped up, slowed down as body thrust against body, slower, faster, harder, as senses heightened and pressure built.  And as Peeta reached for her, and she blindly locked her fingers with his, she let go, everything inside her building and building and building before she snapped and broke into a million pieces.  She felt him tense underneath her, her name falling from his lips as his had fallen from hers, as his body thrust against hers one final time, and he shattered with her.

********

Katniss rested her head on the bare expanse of Peeta’s chest, the smooth skin and smattering of hair warm against her cheek.  The sound of his heart pounding echoed in time with hers, and she closed her eyes.

She wished it hadn’t taken a fight and a week of silence to get them here.

“That was, uh….” He spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence.  Katniss smiled as the sentence hung in the air.

“Yeah,” she said softly.  “It was.”  They fell quiet again.  They didn’t need words this time.  They both knew.

“You know Haymitch reamed the shit out of me last night,” he said, when she was almost certain he’d drifted off to sleep.  She opened her eyes and shifted her head back so she could look up at him, and almost blushed at the flush that still covered his cheeks, the beads of sweat that dotted his forehead.

“He what?”

“I never told him completely what happened.  And after you saw him….well, he ripped into me like I’d done something unforgiveable.  Which he was right about.  I deserved it.”  He lifted his hand, trailing his fingers through her hair.  

“What did he say to you?” She said softly.

“Made me tell him everything, then told me to get my shit together.  That me moping about didn’t take away the fact that I was being an idiot.  And that he would’ve given me what for before then if he’d known I’d left you there.”  Peeta’s voice was full of apology and regret, and he slid down so that they were face to face.  “I meant it when I said I was sorry.  I shouldn’t have done that, just gone and left.”

“I’m sorry too,” Katniss replied.  “I shouldn’t have started the fight.  I shouldn’t have asked you those questions.  Because…”  The arm she had draped loosely across his waist tensed, and her fingers clutched at the sheet below them.

“Because?”

“Because you didn’t deserve to be asked them.  I already knew the answer.  I just….I didn’t even know what I was saying.”

“It doesn’t matter.  Everyone has a sliding doors moment in their life, wondering if had something happened a different way, would it change everything else.  If it was something you were feeling, you had every right to ask-”

“I love you.”

The words that fell from her lips came unbidden, but were clear and strong and steady.  Peeta’s mouth dropped open in shock, his eyes wide and unblinking, but she barrelled on before fear and terror rendered her mute.  “I didn’t realise it at the time.  It took Prim to knock some sense into me.  And when I thought about it…I lashed out because, deep down, I already loved you and I was terrified I was going to lose you.  I don’t know why.  But I just did.  Everyone I love gets-”

Peeta cut her off, pulling her to him so she was sprawled across his chest, her hair a curtain around them as he pressed his lips to hers.  He cupped her cheeks and looked at her seriously.  “Thank god, because I love you and I thought I’d ruined it by walking away.”

The pounding of her heart slowed, the fear giving way to an overwhelming sense of peace.  And she smiled, a smile he hadn’t seen since the plane, when she’d spoken about Prim before everything went to hell.  “Can you say it again?”

“I love you, Katniss Everdeen.  And regardless of how we met, how we came together, it doesn’t matter.  Because I’m certain I would have found you and loved you anyway.”

She kissed him again, and soft kisses became sweet kisses, became urgent kisses.  And if it hadn’t been for the rumbling of her stomach, they would have continued.  She flushed in embarrassment as Peeta laughed.

“I was making cheese buns before.  Which I was going to bring over to you, and grovel and apologise like a mad man.  But you beat me to it.”  He grinned, reaching up and tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear.  “Want me to grab some so we can eat them in bed?”

Katniss smiled in return.  “What are you waiting for?  Go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, for your kudos and comments. They mean so much!
> 
> You can find me at tumblr - I'm sponsormusings there as well :)


	14. Chapter 14

She studied the knickknacks on the sideboard, a jumble of photo frames, high school medals and little odds and ends Peeta had obviously picked up over the years.  While some of them made her smile – a goofy picture of him with his nephew, their eyes crossed, with what looked suspiciously like dough covering the small boys cheek – others made her curious; a small bronze pin in the shape of a bird, a hard, misshapen chunk of coal.

“I collect a lot of shit,” he whispered in her ear, sliding his arms around her waist and drawing her into him.  Katniss smiled, resting her head against his shoulder.  It was warm, and bare beneath her hair, but that was to be expected.

She _was_ wearing his shirt, after all.

“It’s fun,” she replied.  “It gives me even more insight into who you are.  All these little things that slowly add up to you.  Although I’m not going to ask about the way you have those Star Wars figurines positioned.”

Peeta snorted, and she felt the rumble in his chest as laughter bubbled up.  “You can blame that on Finnick.  Every damn time he’s over here he changes them.  I gave up putting them back into appropriate positions.  It’s more fun seeing how he changes them.”

She sighed, covering his hands with hers.  “Knowing now, how good a friends you are with Annie and Finnick, and how long I’ve been friends with them, I’m amazed we hadn’t met before…..”

He rested his head against hers.  “We met when we were supposed to, Katniss,” he said gently.

She turned slowly, sliding her arms up around his neck, linking her fingers at the nape.  She studied him, the lazy blue eyes that looked satiated and happy, and the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.  “I’m glad we sorted things out,” she said softly.  “I’ve been miserable all week.”

“So have I,” he replied.  “If I wasn’t being so stubborn-”

She shook her head.  “It doesn’t matter.  But I just think if we’re going to give this, _us_ , a chance, we have to learn to communicate better, be honest, not be mean to each other.  I don’t want to fight with you if we don’t need to.”

“Need to?” Peeta echoed.

“Well….” Katniss trailed off.  “I’m not going to lie and say I think we’ll never fight.  I know we will.  But if we don’t _need_ to, then we won’t.”  Peeta’s hands were drawing small circles on the small of her back, his hands occasionally dipping below the hem of her shirt and brushing against the bare skin of her thighs.  As much as it distracted her, she knew they needed to get all of this out of the way.  It was the only way for them to make a fresh start.

“Ok,” he answered.  “But if we’re going to be honest with each other, I need you to answer me a question.”

She hesitated, and he knew it.  Slipping his hands from around her, he took her hand in his, drawing her over to the recliner before sitting down, pulling her onto his lap.  She moved sideways, hooking her legs over the arm.  Her heart thudded, hard and heavy against inside her chest, and she nervously tugged at the hem of the shirt.  She had no idea what he was going to ask her, what he wanted to know.

She wasn’t sure she _did_ want to know.

“When we first started seeing each other, you mentioned you hadn’t been in the bakery for years,” he started, and she let out the breath she knew she’d been holding.  “Not even with Finnick and Annie being there, your good friends, did you go.  But….you went there for me.   Why?  What stopped you in the first place?”

Katniss sighed, glancing back across the room at the hutch, her eyes drawn inexplicably to the lump of coal that sat there. “I’ve already told you about my parents.  I guess….growing up, our dad would always take Prim and I down there, every Saturday without fail.  You would have been gone, already in California by then.  I can only ever remember Haymitch, and I avoided him like the plague.  But Prim would love the cakes, and Dad would always pick something especially for Mom, and it was almost like when we went to the bakery nothing bad ever happened.  I always had good memories of there, happy memories of my dad.  It was one of the few places that wasn’t tainted.”

“Tainted?”  Peeta threaded his fingers through hers.

“It was one of the few places in Panem that had nothing bad associated with it,” Katniss explained.  “Other places were…..I don’t even really know.  I would go to the mall, and I would remember a fight I had with Mom about some stupid sweater, or I’d go downtown and all I would see was the lawyers office, who fought us all the way in trying to claim insurance when Mom and Dad…..died.  The woods, and our gardens at home, were my sanctuary, where I felt closest to them.  But even there, I didn’t have an idealised image of them in my head.  They were just every day for us, nothing special.  But the bakery….that was something special.  Something we loved to do.  And it did nothing but bring a smile to my face when I thought about it. Made me feel close to them, especially my Dad.”

She trailed off, not used to speaking about her parents for so long.  She rarely did, and mostly only when Prim forced her to.  But now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop.  And with Peeta’s warm hand around hers, and his quiet, steady heartbeat against her arm, she felt like she could.

“So why didn’t you go back if it was a place you had such good memories of?”

“Exactly that,” she replied.  “It was untainted, and I didn’t want to change that.  What if the cakes weren’t as good, what if Haymitch had changed everything inside?  It sounds stupid, but that’s how I felt.”

“It’s not stupid at all,” Peeta confirmed.  “I don’t think it’s bad to want to try and maintain a memory without ruining it.  Why didn’t you ever ask Finn and Annie what it was like?”

“I…I suppose I didn’t want them to think I was being weird about it.  Annie was there when it happened, she knows how hard it hit me.  I guess I wanted her to think I was ok, that I wasn’t still affected by it.”

“Annie would have understood.”  Peeta’s free hand slid up and down her calf, a slow, soothing gesture against her skin.

Katniss shrugged.  “I was used to doing things on my own by then,” she said simply.

“That’s why I’m curious.  Why now?  Why me, then?  You willingly came to the bakery that night, and didn’t argue with me at all about it.”

Katniss opened her mouth, then closed it again.  Her eyebrows furrowed together, her lips pursed into a frown. “I….I don’t know.  It didn’t even concern me, at all.  All I could think about was…..”

“Was?” Peeta prompted.

She shrugged again, and she could feel the heat blooming on her cheeks.  She thought back to that day, when she’d stared at her wardrobe for what felt like hours, until Prim kicked her ass into gear.  Remembered how she was so insistent it wasn’t a date, it didn’t mean anything, that it was just dinner.

Why the hell had she been kidding herself?  Looking back now, she’d already had her answer.  She’d just ignored it.

“All I could think about was you,” she huffed finally.  She could see the grin on his face out of the corner of her eye, but she refused to acknowledge it.  Saying it out loud was hard enough.  “I went there, fully expecting us to go out to dinner somewhere else, and then Haymitch interrogated me….and then you walked out in this,” she tugged on the hem of the shirt she wore. “And I swear anything you would have said I would have agreed to.  And I did.  I stayed.  For you. I just didn’t know it yet.”

The arm that banded around her waist tightened, his hand resting almost possessively on her hip.  “You killed me that night when you friendzoned me.  But this?  If I had known all of this back then….I never would have let you go that night without kissing you.”

“Timing, Peeta,” she replied.  “Everything happened when it was supposed to, like you said.”  She leant forward, pressing her lips to his.  They were soft, pliable, and moulded to hers easily, and she wondered if she would ever tire of this.  It felt different now, like she no longer had to worry.  She’d laid everything bare in front of him, and he was _still there_.  She traced the seam of his mouth with her tongue, and he responded eagerly, his hand clenching against her thigh and pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss.  It was slow, lazy, an exploration that promised more to come.  With a soft nip at the edge of Peeta’s mouth, Katniss pulled away slightly.  “But you know the best thing?”  He shook his head, trying to focus on her words, and not the overpowering need he felt to throw her over his shoulder and drag her back to bed.  “It didn’t ruin my memories of the bakery at all.  In fact, they only got better.”

“They did, huh?” he grinned.  “Well, that’s a good thing.  Because I plan on you spending a _lot_ of time there in the future.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed. “I plan on spending a lot of time with you _everywhere_.”

Katniss raised an eyebrow.  “Why do I get the feeling we’re talking about two different things?”

Peeta chuckled, slipping his hand up underneath the hem of her shirt.  “If you’re not thinking what I’m thinking, I obviously didn’t do my job before.  Which means I may have to give it another go.”

She smiled, and danced her fingers up his chest.  “Regardless, I think you should anyway.”

********

Friday, and her surgery, arrived before she knew it.  The week had passed quickly, her days filled with work and finalising with Haymitch and Peeta what they were going to provide to the authorities the day after her operation.  Her nights were spent with Peeta, making up for the time they’d lost with months of dancing around each other.  Her first night there had been a sleepless one, initially worrying about Prim; if she got home from work, if she had eaten dinner, if she was ok in their house on her own.  Until, in no uncertain terms, Peeta had told her to stop worrying, and had ducked under the covers, proceeding to distract her with what she was finding to be her favourite distraction.

He later admitted, with a sly grin on his face as he rested his head on her stomach, that it was his favourite too.

Her nightmares began to abate the more nights she spent tucked around Peeta, his arm resting like a dead weight across her waist, his chest rising and falling under her cheek.  He woke when she woke, smoothing the sweat matted hair from her forehead, soothing the rapid pounding of her heart with soft kisses and gentle words. 

For once in her life, she felt like everything might just be ok.

********

Her fingers tapped nervously on the armrest, an erratic melody that highlighted exactly how worried she was.  Prim had always felt comfortable in hospitals and doctors surgeries.  Katniss, on the other hand…..

She felt Peeta’s hand wrap around hers, and she looked at him, embarrassed.  “I’m sorry,” she apologised.  “But I’m really nervous - I hate hospitals and doctors and anything to do with this.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Katniss.  I know.  Don’t worry, it will be fine.  This specialist is really good.  You don’t think Capitol would allow someone to botch up a procedure would you?”  He raised an eyebrow, and she knew he had a point.  If Capitol spent all their time worrying about their image and paying people off, the last thing they would do would risk any type of surgery be done by someone who had the potential not to do a good job.

It was all about appearances and saving face, after all.

“You’re right, I know you are.  And I feel stupid, because this isn’t even major-”

“It’s major to you,” he interrupted with a shake of his head.  “Which means it’s important, not stupid.  And it makes it important to me too.  At least it’s done here, in his treatment rooms here, rather than at the hospital, right?”

Katniss nodded, breathing in deeply.  In, out, in out.  “I just….I hope it works.  Because I’m sick of not being able to hear properly.  I haven’t felt right.  Not completely.”

“Katniss Everdeen?”  The nurse stood in an open doorway, a clipboard in her hand and a soft smile on her face.  Katniss stood, before leaning down and pressing a small kiss to Peeta’s cheek. 

“Thanks for being here,” she told him softly.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”  With a small nod, and a nervous smile, she followed the nurse out of the room.

********

“Can you hear then?  CAN YOU HEAR ME?”  Finnick wrapped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, leaning over the counter towards Katniss, as she walked into the bakery the following day.  She glared at him, and at Peeta, who was struggling to contain a laugh beside her.  She reached out with a hand, clipping Finnick around the ear.

“I could hear you beforehand, asshole,” she muttered.  “I can just hear you even more now. Unfortunately.”

Finnick snickered, and folded his arms across his chest.  But his eyes were kind, and understanding, and she knew he was sincere.  She sighed, and moved around the counter, nudging him in the shoulder.  “I’m good.  Thanks Finn.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a small hug before letting her go again.  “That’s good, Kat,” he said sincerely.  “I’m glad.  The last thing you needed was for that to drag out any longer.  Lucky Capitol is pulling out all the stops, right?”

Katniss almost had to physically bite her tongue to stop the smart remark from falling from her lips.  She, Haymitch and Peeta had kept their discoveries to themselves, as hard as it was to not share it with their friends.  The less who knew, they thought, the better, but it had caused a few moments of hurried shuffling of papers when they’d been looking through the documents in the kitchen.  They’d told Annie and Finnick of the payments Capitol was giving both Peeta and Katniss – and Prim, for that matter – and at this stage, they were of the opinion Capitol was doing great things for those affected by the crash.

Katniss couldn’t wait for it to all come out.  She was sick of the cloak and dagger nature of it – and the fact that until they did so, Capitol would continue to get away with what they were doing.  _Or not doing_ , she corrected herself wryly.

She glanced over as she saw Haymitch walk out of the door that led to the bakery apartment, resting against the doorframe.  His hair was matted, his shirt dotted with what looked like vanilla frosting, but there was a smile in his eyes, one that she hadn’t seen in a long time.

Maybe ever.

“You alright then?” he asked.  She nodded, knowing he wasn’t just asking about her procedure.  “Good.  I’ve got some stuff for you to look over, if you don’t mind.”  She nodded again, and followed Haymitch back down the short hallway into the apartment, nerves suddenly filling her. _This is ridiculous_ , she scolded herself.  _You knew this was going to happen today_.

He reached the table first, palming the documents.  "I, uh, got Peeta to give me everything you'd put together yesterday, and I collated it. You've done good. It's solid. They're going to be explaining themselves for quite a while."

"I don't want them to just explain themselves, Haymitch. I want them to not get away with it."

"And they won't," he said simply. "You're giving them a big pile of shit to wade through."  Katniss nodded, wringing her hands in front of her.  "You ready to do this, sweetheart?" He asked her, holding out the thick manila envelope. She stared at it for a moment, before reaching out tentatively, her fingers curling around the edge.

"Someone needs to, right? And, I mean, if it wasn't for you...."

Haymitch waved her away with an impatient hand. "I just....had a gut instinct and had to follow it. Wasn't trying to be a hero or none of that shit."

"Either way," she muttered, tightening her grip on the envelope. They heard footsteps, and Peeta appeared in the doorway, eyebrow raised.

"We ok?" He asked, making is way over to them and slipping an arm around Katniss' waist. She was still a little uncomfortable with PDAs of any form, and couldn't help the grimace that tugged at her mouth. Haymitch's smirk at her discomfort annoyed her, and she intentionally shifted her body a little closer to Peeta's. _That'll show him_.

"All good," Haymitch replied. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Now hurry up and damn well go. I want these fuckers brought down, and preferably before dinner."

Peeta chuckled. "I don't think anything will happen by tonight."

Haymitch snorted.  "Realistically, I know that. But you never know, boy. Capitol could be dead by morning. Stranger things have happened."

Katniss glanced at Haymitch, then at Peeta, and thought how she'd come to know them, really know them.  How what had started out possibly being the worst thing that had happened to her had become the best.

_Yes_ , she realised, _stranger things HAD happened._

********

They sat in the car, both staring blankly into space, out towards the valley below.  Panem spread out in front of them, lights beginning to dot the landscape as day shifted towards night.  The sun began to dip below the mountains that provided a distant backdrop to the city, its rays dancing and flitting across the landscape.

“We did it,” Peeta muttered, reaching out for Katniss’ hand blindly.  Their fingers entwined over the console, and she could feel his shake a little.

“We did,” she replied.  “I….I kind of can’t believe it was that easy.”

Katniss could see Peeta shrug out of the corner of her eye.  “I told you Haymitch would know what to do.  He told us to go to Boggs, and that he’d do what needed to be done from there.”

“Why didn’t Haymitch just give the documents to him then?” she asked, finally breaking her gaze from the deepening twilight and turning to Peeta.  “Wouldn’t that have been easier?”

“You know why, Katniss,” Peeta replied gently.  “We needed to do that.  Don’t you feel some sense of…..closure, knowing that what we’ve done could change everything for them?  That it could make them really take responsibility for their actions?”  His eyes bore into hers, and she realised that the day had taken as much out of him as it had her.

She unbuckled her seatbelt, pulling herself across the centre console until she was planted sideways in his lap, her legs pulled up against her.  With a chuckle, he pulled the lever so that the seat slid back, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.  She tucked herself in so that her head rested under his chin.  It was cramped, and awkward and uncomfortable, but she knew it was the only place she wanted to be right now.

“I do.  I feel good about it.  Scared shitless that they’ll come after us, or whatever, but I’m glad we did it.”

Peeta’s arms shifted around her, his voice muffled against her hair.  “They won’t come after us, Katniss; we’ve already talked about that.  They’ll be too busy cleaning up their mess to worry about it.  And anyway, we specified to Boggs that we were doing it all under the promise of anonymity.  We’ll be fine.  And now…..”

“And now?” she echoed, tracing her nails across the bare skin that peeked through the open collar of his shirt.

“We can focus on us.  Just you and me.  And see where this goes.”

Katniss pulled her head up, a smile creeping across her face.  “You’re right, you’re absolutely right.  And at the moment, the only place we’re going….” Her hand trailed down to the waistband of his pants, slipped it up under his shirt, felt his stomach muscles contract under her touch.  She dropped her voice to a whisper, leant in close to his ear.  “Is the backseat.”

********

It was the lead story on all news broadcasts by Monday, populating the airwaves and dominating the local Panem newspapers.

_“Investigations are underway of Capitol Airlines, after documents were leaked to the press detailing a number of poor practices that have allegedly been committed by the company._

_The documents, provided to authorities and the press via an anonymous tip-off, outline over 50 individual cases of wrong-doing as a result of incorrect procedures implemented by the company.  In each instance a passenger of the airline was injured, and their medical costs covered, along with a significant out of court settlement.  Initial reports suggest the instances were all easily avoidable had the airline followed correct procedure and guidelines.  Coriolanus Snow, president of Capitol, is highly implicated of wrongdoing in the documents leaked and is likely to face serious charges._

_Capitol Airlines was recently in the spotlight following the crash of Flight 1210, in which numerous lives were lost._

_When contacted in regards to these latest reports, Effie Trinket, spokesperson for the airline, had no comment._

_Information will be released as more details come to light, but it seems that Capitol Airlines may be in for a bumpy ride.”_

Katniss turned the radio off, smiling to herself.  She glanced at Peeta across the kitchen, elbow deep in dough, his own smile creeping across his face in return.  She moved towards him, leaning on the counter, not caring about the flour that was going to coat her arms and her shirt.

“I guess we did it,” he said, and she could all but hear the relief in his voice. 

“I guess we did,” she replied. “Happy?”

“Very.  You?”

She pressed a light kiss to his lips.  “Definitely.  For more reasons than one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank every person who has read this story, and who has taken the time to kudo or comment during the process. I've appreciated it so much, especially during those times when writing just seemed too hard to do.
> 
> A special thank you to Jeeno2, MalTease and salanderjade for pre-reading so many of my chapters, and just telling me to post my shit. I can't thank you enough.


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